Seven
by TheGirlWithTheDinosaurTattoo
Summary: Serendipity Winchester is the only Warrior of Heaven...or is she? Life at Winchester Ranch gets flipped on its ear as new challenges suddenly get introduced. The results are terrifying.
1. Chapter 1

::Hey, hey, hey! Welcome back to Winchester Ranch! After a not-so-brief hiatus, I am back and have this completed story for you and I'm working on one more: the wrap up of the overall Winchester Ranch arc. I hope you stick it out with me and see how things wrap up with the Winchester Family. I'm sure I won't be able to stay away...there will probably be flashbacks and stuff too. Until then, enjoy _Seven_. Please let me know what you think!

love and internetty hugs,

the girl with the dinosaur tattoo::

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Chapter 1

Grace

The shop was chilly, and I walked back to Dean's office, looking for the hoodie I remembered tossing on the back of his desk chair. The wind had kicked up again and I took a deep breath, knowing that winter was headed our way. The birthday cluster had just begun, with my daughter Faith's second birthday next week and my niece Charlotte, also turning two the day after. The twins, Glory and Everett, would be next, turning five in mid-October, and my oldest daughter Liberty would turn seven mid-November. My nephew Levi would wrap up the kid-cluster with his birthday in mid-December and I laughed, amazed by it all.

Taking a deep breath of brisk air, I pulled on the sweatshirt, messing up my hair, and as I redid the messy bun at the top of my head, a customer opened the glass door and smiled as he greeted me. Out of habit, I returned the smile, but found my senses on high alert almost immediately. This man put my teeth on edge.

"Welcome to Winchester Auto," I began, trying to hold my professional smile. "What can I do for you?"

Stuart, our house manager, walked behind me, gathering invoices for my husband to sign. He glanced at me and must have noticed the change in body language, because he hesitated long enough to narrow his eyes questioningly. "Need some help, boss-lady?" he asked, more caution in his tone than I was used to.

"Don't know yet," I gestured to the new customer. "Gonna see what he needs."

The man that approached the counter was on the short and squatty side. He was probably a head or so shorter than me, but I was tall, standing about five-eleven on a good day. He was jittery and barely contained, with wild brown eyes and hair to match, and there was something about him that I just couldn't place.

Automatically, I started searching my mind for monster tells: fangs, claws, scent, but all of my known variables came up empty. I even glanced in the mirror behind me, seeing if he was a wraith or something similar. I pressed into his mind with my own, trying to read his thoughts.

Nothing.  
"Are you, uh," he smiled painfully, "Grace Winchester?"

I narrowed my eyes. Something was happening. Every nerve in my body was on red alert.

"Who's asking?" I replied. Everything in me told me to run.

It was as if time slowed to a crawl as I watched him lift two guns, pulling them from the waistband of his jeans.

He was fast; faster than I had seen in a long time, and even with my abilities, even with my version of time slowed, my reactions were dulled. I wasn't prepared. I watched with my mouth open as three silvery, hand stamped bullets screamed towards me. I had enough time to see Enochian was etched into the sides, complete with traps and other symbols I didn't recognize. Willing my body to move out of the way, or even to throw a shield, there simply wasn't time and as I watched, each of the three bullets found their target, sinking deeply into my shoulder, arm, and chest.

I couldn't even cry out as I felt my legs collapse beneath me.

The next few minutes were a blur and the white-hot pain was blinding. The bullets _burned,_ and I knew it was because they were meant just for me. Bright blue light streamed out of my wounds and as Stuart bent over me to press his hand down onto my chest, I could see Dean as he bolted from his office and out into the open garage, chasing after my attacker.

There were more gunshots, but it sounded as if they were being fired underwater. I couldn't hear what was happening and I prayed that Dean wouldn't be this man's second victim. Attempting to focus on Stu, I could feel tears sting my eyes as I shook my head.

"This is bad, Stu," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.

Stuart swallowed hard, shaking his head at me and turning to scream at our other employees, "Call nine-one-one!" His voice broke as he continued, "Tony! Call nine-one-one!"

There were voices in the background, all calling out to each other. One of the garage doors shattered as bullets tore through the glass and embedded themselves into the cars on the lifts. Stu bent over me, trying to protect me from the glass, and someone threw clean shop towels onto the ground next to my face. Stuart grabbed them and pressed them down onto my wounds, still trying to stem the bleeding.

"You're gonna be fine, Grace," he grunted. "You're half-angel. You're gonna be okay."

My eyelids were heavy, and the pain hadn't relented. "They were Weapon Stone bullets, Stu," I gasped. "Tell Dean they were Stone bullets."

"He's right here, honey," Stu murmured, looking up. "Dean's right here. Focus on telling him yourself."

My husband's face came into my line of sight and I tried to take a breath, but it caught in my throat, forcing me to cough and gasp. "Grace?" he whimpered. "You're gonna be okay. Hold on." Dean turned to Stu, licked his lips and tried to stay calm. "Cas?" he muttered. "Cas, right now would be a good time."

The wounds were still on fire and I could feel the pull of unconsciousness; my body giving into the pain.

"No, no, Gracie," Dean's voice called me back. "Stay awake, baby. You need to stay awake. Tell me about the bullets."

"Enochian," I whispered, doing whatever I could to follow Dean's directions. "Stamped Stone."

"Lucia? Cas?" Dean repeated, begging the angels to come. "Get down here, now. Grace needs you."

…

Serra

Doing my rounds seemed too ordinary these days, but I held my clipboard and went baby to baby in the NICU, checking off temperatures and oxygen levels. Eventually, I ran out of kids to check, so I meandered my way to the nurses' station near the admissions office and the emergency dispatch center, trying to shake the sense of uneasiness that I had been feeling for the last fifteen minutes or so. I forced a smile, greeting one of the EMTs, and uncapped my water bottle to take a long swig.

"—five-oh Stoneridge Drive," came a garbled address of an emergency call. The EMT lifted his radio closer to his ear, trying to listen to dispatch.

"Say again?" the young man replied.

I turned slowly, listening to the radio as I drank my water. The sense of unease came rolling across my chest and I held my breath, waiting to hear the address that dispatch read over the walkie-talkie.

"Shots fired at five-five-oh Stoneridge Drive," the dispatch receiver repeated as she read her script. "Possible twenty-seven-dee-four," the female voice continued.

I froze, shaking my head in denial. That was the shop's address. I could feel the blood leave my face as panic fueled my adrenaline. "No," I whispered, falling into step with the EMT. Protocol twenty-seven only meant one thing: gunshot wounds.

"Ten-four," he replied, pulling ahead of me and running down the hall towards his ambulance. He pounded the glass of the green room as he ran, "Twenty-seven-dee-four!" he shouted, banding his hand on the glass as he ran. "Let's go!"

I was hot on his tail and into the ambulance bay before he realized what was happening. "What are you doing?" he shouted, "we need to go!"

"That's my sister and brother-in-law's auto shop," I grunted, climbing into the back of the ambulance with the EMT. "Sorry, man, but you're stuck with me." I pulled out my phone and started to dial, fake smiling at the EMT as the engine started. "Serra Winchester," I introduced myself. "I'm a nurse up in the NICU."

"Oh, yeah," the EMT answered, nodding knowingly. "I know who you are." He took a deep breath and extended his hand as the driver peeled rubber out of the ambulance bay. "Andy Simmons," he sighed. "Hope everything is okay at the shop."

The phone continued to ring, and I silently begged for my sister to pick up her phone. "Yeah," I muttered. "Me too."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dean

"Get me another set of towels!" I shouted, doing my best to keep as calm as I could as my angelic wife bled out on the floor of my shop. "Gracie, stay awake. Help is coming," I breathed, pleading. "Come on Cas! Pull the bullets!"

Castiel bent in front of Grace, his eyes were closed, and he was focused with his hands extended over her. "I'm trying," he grunted. "They're not moving. I don't know what's wrong."

Stu looked panicked and I did everything in my power to stay in control. "Did he say anything to her?" I asked, staring at my friend as Cas worked. "What happened before he came in?"

Stuart was at a loss, shaking his head slowly. "Holy shit," he breathed. "I don't know. I don't know what happened."

"Stu, focus," I demanded as Grace's eyes rolled closed. "Grace, stay awake," i muttered, trying to keep my attention on Stu. "Replay it in your head. The door opened and she greeted him. What happened next?"

"She, uh. She greeted him," Stu nodded and tried closing his eyes, blocking out the scene before him. "She looked worried, like wary, so I walked over."

I nodded, encouraging him, "And? Then what?"

"I asked if she needed help and she said she didn't know yet. Then," tears came to Stu's eyes and I tried to stay focused. "He asked if she was Grace Winchester. Out of nowhere, he raised two guns and fired."

Exchanging glances with Cas, I shook my head. "Not a mind reader, not angelic," I muttered. Cas nodded in agreement. "A human with Weapon Stone bullets etched in Enochian?"

More nodding.

Licking my lips, I shook my head, keeping my hands pressed on Grace's neck, feeling her reassuring pulse. "Someone put a hit out on Grace, but supplied the bullets?" I took a deep, shaking breath, and steadied myself. "She's still breathing. Get those bullets out of her and maybe she'll be able to self-heal." I glanced back outside, staring at the man that had tried to kill my wife. He lay dead in a pool of his own blood, still in the same position from when he collapsed after I loaded him with lead. I leaned back, squatting in front of Grace and unloaded the guns I had taken from the mystery man. "Three rounds left in this one, five left in here. All stamped with Enochian."

"Whoever it is, knows she's angelic," Cas commented, still attempting to retrieve the bullets lodged in my wife. "And because of the inscriptions, I can't get the bullets out. They need to be taken out surgically."

I was ready to pull my pocketknife and go in after them myself, but I hesitated long enough to hear the reassuring sounds of sirens in the distance. For once in his life, Tony had come through in calling an ambulance.

"They're not gonna know what to do with her on a surgery table," I muttered, shaking my head. "Try not to freak anyone out, babe."

Grace opened her eyes and smiled weakly, still in obvious pain.

"They're coming," I whispered, bending down to kiss her forehead. "Hold on."

…

Serra

"Answer the phone," I muttered, shaking my head. "Answer the goddamn phone." Grace's phone went to voicemail again and I hung up, angrily shaking my head. Tapping Dean's name again, I held my phone to my ear and waited as patiently as I could. Still nothing.

We were only minutes away from the shop and I did what I could to prep myself for what may or may not be coming. Gunshots at the shop were still something I had always been ready for, but it was the middle of the day on a Tuesday, and things had been quiet for about six months. God forbid we get through the calendar year without something drastic happening.

Finally, I scrolled through the numbers on my phone and tapped the number for the shop itself. The other end rang twice before a voice answered, sounding breathless.

"Winchester Auto, Tony speaking," he greeted.

"Put Grace on the phone," I demanded, skipping all the pleasantries.

Tony was taken aback, "Uh," he stuttered. "She's, um, not available."

"Tony, what happened?"

"Serra?" he gasped. "Serra, it's bad. She's – Grace was shot! A guy came in and—"

"Put Dean on the phone," I interrupted. "Right now."

There was static as Tony carried the phone towards my brother-in-law. I waited as patiently as I could, but now that I had confirmation that something awful had happened, I was in full-blown panic mode. I could hear the interaction between Dean and Tony as he tried to give my brother the phone.

"Dean, phone for you," Tony explained.

I could imagine the look Dean shot at him, "I'm a little busy, man," he growled. "Take a message!"

"It's Serra," Tony added.

There was more static as Tony managed to get Dean to take the phone. "Serra?" he whispered into the phone. "Sere, where are you?"

"I'm on my way. I'm in the ambulance." I glanced outside to see how close we were to the shop. "Only about four minutes out. What happened?"

Dean breathed slowly into the receiver and I could tell he was shaking his head and running his hand through his hair. The only reason he ever hesitated the way he was right now was because his mind was on overdrive. "I don't really know, Sere," he sighed. "There was a guy with a couple of guns. He came in, asked if she was Grace and shot her three times. She's still breathing, but they're stamped with Enochian and Cas can't get them out of her." He sighed and tried to control the waver in his voice. "She's bleeding pretty bad."

"We're close, Dean," I repeated. "She'll be alright. It's not like they're made of Weapon Stone."

Dean swallowed again. "I'm pretty sure they are," he whispered. "It's like someone put a hit out on her."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "We're close," I repeated.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean

We stood silently around Grace's bed as she impatiently watched Alana hook up her IVs. "I don't need those, you know," she muttered, shaking her head slowly. "The only reason I still feel like crap is because I'm burning off the anesthesia. I'm fine."

"You weren't fine, Grace," Serra muttered. "They pulled three bullets out of you."

"Three Weapons Stone bullets," I chimed in. "Has everyone forgotten that they were Weapons Stone bullets? Marked with Enochian?" I shook my head and stared at my wife. "Someone wants your head on a platter."

"They're gonna have to get in line," Grace rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, leaning her head on the pillows behind her. "That was Delilah's plan from the beginning, wasn't it? Kill the Nephilim and take control of the Gates. Someone's just late to the party."

Serra licked her lips and tilted her head, crossing her arms in front of her, "Leave the bitchyness and sarcastic commentary to me. You're gonna hurt yourself. What happened to throwing around shields? Stopping the bullets? Did he just catch you way off guard?"

Grace shrugged. "I don't know what happened," she sighed as Alana stepped back to listen with the rest of us. "He walked in, my mind flagged him, but it all happened so fast that it didn't occur to me to react until it was too late." She turned to lift an eyebrow at me. "I saw he didn't make it down the driveway."

"I heard the shots," I replied, nodding. "Had my gun drawn before I really knew what I was doing." I glanced at Alana and sighed, "Told the cops he tried to rob us."

Serra was still looking at Grace, "What do you mean, you 'flagged' him?"

Opening her mouth to answer, Grace took a deep breath and shrugged with her good shoulder. "Even as he came into the shop, I knew something was off. I could feel it."

"How?"

"I don't know, Serra," she continued, obviously annoyed. "There was just something about him. He – "

"He felt different," Cas interrupted.

Grace was nodding, "Yeah," she sighed. "I don't know how or why. He just did."  
Serra was irritated and beginning a pace pattern around the small hospital room. "Let's go over this again. A dude saunters up to the shop, you know he feels off, but he's not a monster. He has enough time for you to flag him, but you don't have enough time to hold up barriers or block the shots."

Grace shook her head.

All heads swiveled to Cas, waiting for an explanation. He took a deep breath and tilted his head, trying to find the words. "It's only a theory," Cas began, holding up his hands in defense. "But the only other person that feels 'different' than normal humans, besides the obvious monsters or other cosmic beings," he sighed, "is you."

Serra narrowed her eyes at the angel and dropped her arms. "Me," she repeated. "Why?"

"You give off your own signature as a Warrior of Heaven," Cas put his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, searching for a way to explain himself. "You're not quite angelic, but you don't feel human. You're just," Cas shrugged.

"Different," Grace whispered, her eyes widening slightly. "It never occurred to me that there would be more than one."

"More than one what?" I asked. "More than one Warrior of Heaven? Is that what we're talking about?"

Grace nodded and flicked her blue eyes back to Castiel. "A Warrior tried to kill me?" she muttered. "Why? And where did he get a Stone?"

I licked my lips and let my eyes close, leaning my head back in frustration. I sighed, "Remember when it was just shifters and wendigos?"

…

Serra

Dean was on the phone in the corner of the waiting room and I waited with my arms crossed, leaning in the doorway and watching him. His voice was low, and he gestured with his free hand, looking concerned. He had every right to look concerned, of course. His angelic wife had been shot with angel-killing bullets about two hours ago.

Finally, he hung up the phone and let it slide back into his pocket. Running his hands through his hair again, he turned towards me and shook his head, realizing that I had been standing there. "What?" he asked, walking over. "She okay?"

I nodded slowly, staring at my brother in law. "Yeah, she's fine," I answered, narrowing my eyes. I pursed my lips, still staring up at Dean. "Who were you on the phone with?"

"Lawrence PD," Dean sighed. "There's still the matter of the DB on my driveway. Coroner is there, giving my guys the runaround."

"An attempted robber, huh?"

"What else am I gonna tell them?" Dean pressed his lips together, forcing his dimples to show. "Yeah, see, my wife is a Nephilim and this Warrior of Heaven tried to kill her," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "You see how good that sounds."

Giving a weak smile, I sighed, "Do we know who he is?"

"No ID yet," Dean answered, pulling his phone from his pocket once more after it vibrated with a text. "Stu says they're closing the shop for the day."

I shrugged. "It's almost two," I replied. "It's not like you're gonna miss out on that much revenue."

"Yeah, today, fine," he answered, dropping his voice. "But we're already behind with the whole Delilah-Everett-Kidnapping debacle. How long does it take to go through a legit investigation?"

"I don't know, Dean," I sighed.

He blew his breath out slowly, puffing his cheeks out and closing his eyes. When he opened them, they were bloodshot and glassy. He stared at me, looking pained. "I saw her die all over again," he whispered. "All I could see was her closing her eyes and fading away from me."

"She didn't," I reiterated. "She's fine. She's annoying like that."

"For being immortal, she's sure here at the hospital a lot."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips. Dean looked as if I slapped him across the face. "Dean, look," I sighed, resting my hand on his arm. "Since coming back from the dead, it's gonna take a lot more than a few of Weapons Stone bullets to take my sister out. She's too stubborn and holy for that." I patted his arm, then pulled him into a hug. "She's all reborn and shit. Got herself a real 'Jesus Complex' now," I could feel him chuckle, so I grinned as I let him go. "I'll be the first to admit, I was a panicked, but it all worked out. The human half cancels out the angel half when it comes to getting shot with holy metal." Glancing down at his shirt, I gestured to his chest. "You need to change," I continued. "You've got blood all over you. Hers or the asshole?"

Dean shook his head, looking down at himself. "I honestly don't know," he said.

"I've got one of Sam's shirts in my truck," I replied. "You want it?"

"Yeah, thanks," he nodded. "I've gotta go get the kids soon. Don't wanna scare anyone."

I laughed and handed him my keys. "I'll call Sam, too. Fill him in."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Serra

Grace had been home for the past two days and I knew that Dean and I both were watching her like a hawk. Every movement she made; we were there. Finally, I think she had enough.

"What is it you're waiting for?" she asked as I followed her into the kitchen on Thursday night, after the kids had gone to bed. "You worried there's gonna be another random Warrior of Heaven, waiting to shoot me from inside the fridge?" She rolled her eyes and grimaced as she gestured too animatedly with her wounded arm.

"There, see? I told you you'd hurt yourself; you keep up that sass," I sighed. "And no," I continued, opening a beer. "The whole Warrior assassin thing…I don't see it happening again any time soon, but we can't be too careful, now, can we?"

"Okay, so where did this guy come from?" Sammy asked, approaching the bar in the kitchen. "And did we know that having more than one Warrior was a possibility?"

I watched as Grace shook her head. "All I can hear is her, most of the time," she sighed. "But it never occurred to me that there would be more than one. I was under the impression that we were a matching set." Grace gestured between us, "Warrior and Nephilim."

"Maybe they don't have to be paired with a Nephilim," Sam answered. "Maybe it's just Warrior and Holy Person?"

"What kind of Holy Person are we talking about?" Dean's voice entered the conversation as he closed the fridge, putting the rest of the leftovers away. "And how many more are there?"

I had remained silent throughout the conversation, and slowly, my family realized that I hadn't had much to say. All faces pivoted towards me, waiting for my opinion. The problem was; I _didn't know_ what I thought of the whole thing. "I don't know," I sighed heavily. "It's not like I thought I was the only one, but I never entertained the idea of another one trying to kill my sister."

"First time for everything," Grace answered. "And why kill me? What purpose does that serve?"

Dean perched on the barstool next to his brother as I continued, "Same reason Delilah would have wanted you dead. You're the one that birthed the Gatekeepers. Maybe they figure that you have some kind of control over the Gates; some kind of influence because you're their mom."

Grace shook her head again, totally at a loss. She tossed the towel she used to dry her hands onto the counter and crossed her arms, nodding towards the stairs. "Lee is awake," she commented. "He's coming down to talk to us."

I turned to see my son rubbing his eyes and squinting against the harshness of the kitchen lights. "What's up, kiddo?" I asked, bending down to his level. "You're never up. You okay?"

Levi took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "It's too noisy to sleep," he replied softly. "The Stone is keeping me awake."

"The Stone," I repeated, throwing my sister a glance. "What Stone?"

"The new Stone," he sighed. "It wants a new person."

Slowly, Grace sank down to a squat in front of Levi. "How long have you been able to hear the Stone, baby?" she asked quietly. "And what does it sound like? Is it close?"

My sister didn't waste any time being shocked. It's like she expected this, and I silently pivoted to watch her and my son interact. I glanced up at my husband and shook my head at his expression. Our kids would never stop surprising us.

"Two days," Levi continued. "It's so noisy because it's close by. I wish we could just go get it so it would be quiet." Squishing up his face the same way I did when I was crabby, Levi took a deep breath that sounded more like a sob. "I just want to sleep!" he whined.

Grace nodded, "Okay!" she declared, standing up straight and resting her hand on my son's shoulder. "Let's do that. Let's go get it, right now!"

"Wait," I was confused. "What?"

"Right now," Grace repeated, glaring at me. "Field trip!"

"Grace," Dean began, mystified, "It's eleven o'clock at night."

Turning and staring hard at her husband, Grace's voice changed, making sure we all knew how important she felt this was, "An open Stone, just calling out into the night," she stated, staring up at both of us with her eyebrows in her hair line. "It doesn't care what time it is."

I was nodding, realizing what she was saying. A Weapons Stone needed to be claimed by a Warrior of Heaven. The lore told us that the Stones pledged loyalty to the next Warrior that touched it. I knew from experience that the lore was accurate. I had one of my own in a safe box in the panic room that I could control, but no one else could.

"Levi can," Grace whispered, answering my stream of consciousness. "I've seen him do it."

"_What?"_ I asked, turning towards my sister as I pulled a sweatshirt on over my tank. I almost fell over, trying to turn back to her too quickly.

"They're loyal to the person that touches it, sure," she continued as the boys looked on. "But they're loyal to your offspring as well, it seems. Lineage matters." Grace glanced at her husband. "Either way, this Stone is open now, and if Levi can hear it, anyone with Warrior blood can hear it too." Suddenly she glared at me, "You're dropping the ball, you know. Why can't you hear it?"

"Dude, I hear so much now," I replied, fixing my hair and throwing it to the side with a flick of my head. "Since the whole thing with the injectors and Sammy's blood…I'm starting to feel like you." Closing my eyes, I tried to listen for anything that sounded like a siren call, just like what I remembered of the Weapons Stone, from the first time I interacted with it, all those years ago. I couldn't pin anything down, but I also was out of practice. My Stone didn't call to me anymore; it didn't need to.

I shook my head, frustration getting the better of me. "I don't even know what muscle to flex," I sighed.

"Well," Grace clicked her tongue. "I trust Levi and we're gonna go and get it before anyone else has a chance to."

"Who's 'we'?" Dean asked, lifting his eyebrows. "All of us? Like wake up the others too?"

Grace pressed her lips together, "Unless you are volunteering to stay," she sighed. "Yeah, everyone. I'm not letting this become some sort of awful trap, either."

"Family outing," Dean sighed. "Alright."

Levi rubbed his eyes again and leaned against me, almost falling asleep as he stood there. Sam furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at his brother, flicking his gaze between us. "Wait, wait, wait," he began, holding up his hands. "I don't want to deal with Charlie in the morning when she's exhausted but won't nap." He turned to Grace and tilted his head. "I'm sure you don't want to deal with Everett like that, either. How about you guys go, and I'll stay here with everyone else."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Don't tell me later that you felt left out."

Sam closed his eyes. "No," he laughed. "It's dumb to get the kids up and out this late at night if we don't have to. You're following the Stone's call. Just keep me in the loop and come back before you go traipsing across the country."

"What's our mileage limit?"

Sam pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Make the call," he ventured.

Levi yawned and began to shuffle towards the front door. "Come on," he whined. "I just wanna sleep."

Grace followed closely behind Levi and I saw the flash of her Nephilim blade nestled in the holster on the back of her hip; the angel blade-influenced weapon that I had poured from the Weapons Stone when I thought she was dead. We had dubbed it appropriately, considering it was the only one of its kind, considering I had poured it thinking only of my sister. The hilt glistened in the dim light, showing off its intricate engravings of feathers that wound their way up the blade.

"He's acting like it's close," Grace turned and smiled. "We shouldn't be gone too long." She paused, considering my son for a moment, "I can see what he's talking about in his mind. It's like a lure. I can almost make out the room it's in."

"We're breaking and entering?" Dean asked with a wry grin on his face. "Been awhile."

"Maybe," Grace offered. "Maybe not. The guy's dead, so it's not like he'll be upset."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Grace

I hadn't hesitated when Levi told us about the call because I knew, deep in my gut, that if he could hear it, other potentially unarmed Warriors could hear it as well. The theory I entertained was that because Serra already had a Stone that pledged allegiance to her, others would call to unarmed Warriors. Levi just happened to be one of them. There was no doubt in my mind that we would be able to find the unclaimed Stone quickly and we'd be home before sunrise as long as we trusted our tiny Warrior.

"Lee, you're gonna have to stay awake to tell us which way to go, baby," I muttered to the rearview mirror as we all climbed into the Chevelle.

Serra turned to her son and patted his shoulder lightly. "Hey," she spoke quietly with a smile on her face, "you're gonna miss all the fun."

"Which way, kiddo?" I asked, starting up the engine and gunning it a bit, making the whole chassis flex with the rev. "Point us in a direction."  
Sleepily, Levi lifted his arm and gestured vaguely to the west, so I put it in reverse and three-pointed my way out of our gravel driveway.

Dean turned to me and smiled, shaking his head. "This should be interesting," he whispered.

"What, you don't trust the almost-five-year-old?" I chuckled. "He's been through some shit, you know."

We all knew I meant it as a joke, but our smiles faltered the slightest bit and we all turned, staring out our respective windows. The time Levi and Everett spent as Delilah's prisoners was still fresh in all our minds, though our kids didn't seem to be altered in a life-changing way.

Or, they hadn't shown it yet.

I turned onto the highway that crossed through Lawrence and shifted to fourth gear; letting the reverberation of the Chevelle's engine drown out our thoughts. From his seat, Dean reached over and rested his hand on my thigh, letting the weight comfort the both of us.

We drove about eight minutes and I watched my nephew closely for signs that we would be changing course any time soon. He dozed on my sister, opening his eyes every once and a while to turn his head as if he heard something else. The highway was desolate and there was not another single set of headlights to be seen. There wasn't even a moon tonight, letting the stars be the only thing that lit the way, besides the Chevelle's headlights.

Suddenly, Levi sat up straight, still with sleepy eyes and pointed, gesturing off towards the left. There was nothing there, but I knew that he was right—there was something in the air that I couldn't place, and suddenly, I remember being drawn to Serra's Stone so forcefully, so long ago. I had flashes of Serra having to banish both me and Cas to Heaven, trying to get us back under control.

Swallowing hard, I flicked my eyes to my sister in the mirror, knowing that she was sharing my flashback. We communicated so seamlessly these days; it didn't even occur to me that she wouldn't be able to see my memories.

Taking a deep breath, she licked her lips and lifted her eyebrows. "Well," she sighed, "things have been kind of boring lately. Maybe it's time to banish you again or something."

Dean turned, startled by her sudden words. "Banish?" He glanced to me and back to my sister, "What'd I miss?"

"I was just remembering," I muttered, downshifting as I found a dirt road to turn left, "the last time we came in contact with an unclaimed Stone, Cas and I flipped shit so hard, Serra banished both of us."

"Great," he sighed, shaking his head. "Well, maybe your newfound maturity will keep you under control this time."

Leaning forward, Serra spoke between us, "What made you flip out last time? I remember you really, really having a hard on for touching it." She clicked her tongue, "But when you got back, you didn't care?"

"You had claimed it by that time."

"Yeah, I guess," Serra replied, leaning back in her seat. "But would it even perform for you to begin with? I mean, you're not a Warrior of Fucking Heaven. I am."

"Delilah couldn't make hers work either," Levi's little voice chimed in, as he still pointed southwest. "She made me try it."

All adult heads whipped around, trying to stare at Levi in the back seat. I gave up immediately, instead staring at him in the rear-view mirror once again. "Wait, wait, wait," Serra said, turning to speak directly to her son. "You never mentioned she had a Stone. Were you able to control it?"

Levi nodded.

"Did you make her anything?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "I pretended I didn't know what to do with it," he whispered. "But I did."

Serra flicked her hazel eyes to mine in the reflection. "That's two Stones," she muttered. "And we're on our way to a potential three. Aren't there only seven?"

I nodded at her, still glancing at my sister, "That's the lore," I answered. I turned to look at my husband. "What if that's the point? To have all of the Stones with one Warrior?"

"And be in complete control of the Weapons Hold in Heaven?" Dean asked. "I dunno, but this is getting more coincidental by the minute."

"There are no coincidences," I sighed. "It's all a part of the plan."

"Here!" Levi shouted as we almost drove passed a squatty looking house in the middle of nowhere. It was hidden by a grove of trees, with no streetlights, and no other illumination around the house whatsoever. "The Stone is here!"

We all swiveled to the dark dwelling as I put the Chevelle into reverse and cautiously backed up the dirt road. I reached out with my senses, trying to get a feel for the place, but nothing seemed out of ordinary. There were no red flags in my head—the nearest people were about four miles up the road. We were completely alone.

Taking a deep breath, I turned back towards my sister and my husband. "There's no one here," I ventured. "Let's go make ourselves at home."

Levi looked excited and now, completely awake and alert. It was as if being this close to the Stone had encouraged him and shook the sleep from his brain. He narrowed his eyes out the window, trying to focus on the dark house in the distance. "I want to run," Levi breathed, fogging up the glass.

"Run?" Serra asked, wrapping her arm around her son protectively. "Run where?"

"To the Stone," he whispered. "It knows I'm here. It's excited to see me."

I took a slow breath through my nose, feeling the pull myself. There was something about having that kind of power at my fingertips that made hearing the call of the Weapons Stone hard to ignore. The angel blood was forcing me into distracted driving as I drove down the long, gravel drive, much like our own. I kept looking to the house, expecting the Stone to be out in front, waiting for my arrival. I could feel Dean's eyes on me, waiting for me to launch myself out of the car.

"Hey," he soothed, watching the change in my body language. "That Stone won't work for you. There's no reason to want it."

I licked my lips and let my eyes close, trying to ignore the pull I felt. "I know," I breathed, "but the angel half of my brain is fighting tooth and nail for me to try."

"Keep yourself under control," Serra commanded. "We're years away from that night. You're a different person than then, not to mention, there's no evil angel riding around in your meat suit, telling you what to do."

I nodded, remembering Lailah and how she helped Ouriel try to kill Faith. It was one of the darkest parts of our lives. "It's probably smart if you take Lee and go first, out ahead of me." I glanced at Dean and tilted my head. "In hindsight, this is probably why I was so excited to come out here and find it. My bad."

Dean chuckled good-naturedly and shook his head, "You hear that, Luck? Go out ahead of us and find the Stone. We'll join you in a minute."

"You sure there's no one here?"

I nodded to Serra's question, staring at her in the mirror again. "Closest people are in a farmhouse, about four miles north," I sighed. "The only living things are the rabbits and birds."

"Okay," Serra nodded, "you hear that, kiddo? It's just you and me."

Levi was barely listening; the excitement and call getting to be too much for him. He had already unbuckled his seatbelt and was just about hurling himself from the Chevelle and into the darkness. Serra was right on his heels, following him out into the grove of trees with a flashlight. They circled around the house together, disappearing into the darkness.

I watched, trying to keep myself rooted to my seat. "Oh, man, I shouldn't have come," I whispered, squeezing my eyes tight. "This is a lot harder than I thought it would be."

Dean shook his head, smiling lightly. "You're in complete control, gorgeous," he leaned forward and touched my face, forcing me to stare into his eyes, pale green in the darkness. "If I was worried, I'd be distracting you right now." He leaned in, closing the gap between our faces with a deep kiss.

I took a deep breath through my nose, leaning into my husband but allowing a small smile. "Amazing how distracting a good kiss is," I commented quietly. "They're close," I continued, changing subjects. "It's excited to hear Lee."

Closing my eyes, I balled my fists and forced myself to stay put. Dean reached for my face again, cupping my cheeks with both his hands. "It'll be fine," he soothed. "Just focus on staying where you are."

Nodding, I took another breath and held it, waiting for Levi to make contact with the Weapons Stone that called him so desperately. I could feel my nails dig into the palms of my hands, focused on Dean's voice, his scent, anything I could to keep me in the car.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a shift in pressure in the atmosphere. I could _feel_ the stars align and I _knew_ that Levi had made contact with the abandoned Weapons Stone. It ceased its call and the world around me was silent.

Until it wasn't.

There, in the distance, I could feel another pull; another siren call.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dean

I walked behind Grace, watching her body language shift as we followed Serra and Levi into the house, now that he was happily carrying around his new-found Weapons Stone. She was different right now, and I couldn't put my finger on why, especially after she told me twice that she was fine.

She's such a pretty little liar.

I knew we were out of danger when it came to her fighting Lee for the stone, but there was something in the way she walked that told me there was something else on her mind. Too bad for me, I wasn't the resident psychic.

"Breaking and entering?" I asked as we approached the back door of the house that was buried in the grove of cypress trees. I brought my gun out from the waistband of my jeans.

Grace rolled her eyes, "I already told you there's no one here," she sighed, seemingly irritated with me. "You can put the gun away."

Narrowing my eyes at my wife, I pressed my lips together, fighting the urge to fire a sarcastic something back at her. She wasn't quite herself and I hadn't figured out why yet. I knew she could hear me wondering, too, but she chose to ignore me.

That couldn't be good news either.

Dropping back, Serra fell into step next to me as we climbed the porch. "Dude, what was that?" she asked.

I stared at Grace's back as she picked the locks on the back door. "She's got a scent of something," I muttered. "Ignoring my questions and acting weird. Something's up."

"But Levi got the Stone already," Serra argued. "It's pledged its loyalty."

"I know, but there's gotta be something else," I breathed, watching Grace and Levi enter the house together. "Otherwise she would have explained herself."

I was a half a step behind Serra as we entered the pitch-black room. Serra turned her flashlight on, sweeping from side to side, but stopped dead, staring up at the walls around us.

From floor to ceiling, on every available wall, there were weapons.

Guns lined the wall to my left, hanging on mounts, of every caliber imaginable. There were rifles and pistols, shotguns and revolvers. There were a few modern automatic assault rifles and antique, pirate looking guns. There were shelves of ammunition and overflowing boxes on the floor of bullets, in all shapes and sizes. I could feel my mouth fall open, staring at the weapons hold in front of us.

"I am severely out gunned," Serra muttered, shaking her head.

Grace clicked her tongue. "You have plenty of guns," she answered, irritation still wrapping its way around the tone of her voice.

Serra shook her head slowly, approaching the opposite wall, filled with Weapons Stone blades of all shapes and sizes. There were knives, swords, daggers, and machetes, all made from the blue-toned heavenly metal that poured so easily for Serra from her Stone at home. Obviously, the Warrior that Levi's Stone worked for previously had no issues with his own.

"This is insane," I whispered. "I don't think I've ever seen so many weapons in one place." I glanced at my sister-in-law. "What was he preparing for?"

It was Grace's voice that answered, from deep into the house. "Me," she answered simply.

Following her voice, Serra and I came into the back bedroom where Grace was standing. The flashlight Serra carried followed the newspaper clippings slowly up the wall, chronologically listing all the places where something miraculous had happened. There was a yellowed newspaper story about a kidnapped woman, being found safely, months after being taken into a sewer. A clipping showed a story about an entire apartment building's tenants all being safe after the apocalyptic, nine-point earthquake took the building down, because of a young woman pulling the fire alarm. Another article's headline was, 'Local sisters find missing girl in caves.' I glanced at Serra, seeking proof that these all seemed to reference she and Grace.

"Yeah," Serra breathed. "They're all about Grace."

My wife turned slowly and shook her head. "They're about you too," she countered.

"But most of those articles have to do with you, big sister," Serra pointed as she approached. "The only one that even mentions that there was another person there is the caves, when we hunted the vamps in Iowa." She stared sidelong at Grace as she leaned to read the article. "We know he wanted to kill you," she continued as Grace read, "he's been tracking you a real long time."

"Us," Grace reiterated, "he's been tracking us for a real long time."

"But why kill you?" I asked, leaning forward to read the article about the apartment building. "If he was a Warrior of Heaven, as the Stone suggests, then wouldn't it be in his nature to _protect_ you?"

For the first time since entering the house, Grace looked like herself as she turned to answer me. "I'm an abomination," she answered, shrugging half-heartedly. "That's been the problem from the beginning, hasn't it? It's the reason they didn't want to send me back after I died. They got me into Heaven on a technicality."

"Who?"

"The angels," Grace sighed and turned back to the walls of newspaper clippings. "I mean, this guy works for Heaven as a Warrior. He's an enforcer for Heaven. The only reason Serra is loyal to me is because I'm her sister."

Serra turned and narrowed her eyes. "So, if we weren't sisters, I'd want to kill you?" She laughed, "Half the time I wanna do that _because_ we're sisters."

Grace took a slow breath and turned, flipping through the journal that was on the desk in front of us. "Emery always said that we were paired; a heavenly host with a Warrior. Maybe this guy didn't have a pairing? Are Warriors supposed to operate alone? Maybe he was Looney Tunes because he didn't have a match."

"A ward, you mean?" Serra added, turning in place. "Maybe." She continued along the walls and stopped, "But Warriors are exactly that, right? They work for Heaven."

"That's the idea," I commented.

Serra stood longer than I felt comfortable, staring at her son with her eyebrows knitted together in thought. "Maybe I'm the oddity," she finally murmured.

"What?" Grace turned, narrowing her eyes.

I watched as Serra took a deep breath, staring at her sister. "We didn't even put it together that there could be other Warriors until Levi started showing signs," she began. "And I never even considered that there would be others that weren't from our lineage. But here we are, in another's house. He doesn't have a pairing. Maybe none of them do. Maybe me, and Levi, and Charlie are the weird ones because we have matches. We have our Ward." She gestured to the room, "Maybe this guy wasn't a renegade. Maybe he's normal, working for Heaven."

"And they're what," Grace scoffed, "back to trying to kill me?"

Serra shrugged.

"Maybe they can be bought," I offered, walking to a chest at the foot of a bed. There was an odd glow coming from the lid, "Maybe this one was working for someone or something that he shouldn't have been and getting paid for it." I lifted the lid carefully and we all gathered silently to stare at the odd objects inside.

There were spell books and gems, odd trinkets and skulls, complete with vials of liquids that I had never seen and had no way to identify. To me, this was the ultimate spell-casting chest, and we had stumbled upon a storeroom, of which the likes we had never seen. It was almost too incredible to believe.

"Where the hell did he get all of this?" I asked, mostly under my breath. Serra was reaching for things already and I had the urge to bat her hand away. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," I muttered, "Should you be touching any of this shit?"

Serra shrugged, but pulled her hand away anyway. "I dunno," she answered, "but this stuff. We're taking it all."

"I don't know if it's all gonna fit in the Chevelle," Grace commented. "Trunk's big. Not _that_ big."

"We're taking it," Serra stood and took a deep breath. "I don't care if I have to send you both home for boxes and more cars. We're loading this all and taking every, last bit."


	7. Chapter 7

::What a giant fuck-fest this is, huh? A legit pandemic. Unbelievable. Well, I'll tell you what; here's some more fanfic, I'll do my best to get going on editing some more so that you have more to read so that you STAY THE FUCK AT HOME and we can be done with this.

Okay, I'm calm. Hope you're all safe. Be careful out there and stop hoarding toilet paper.

love and internetty hugs::

...

...

Chapter 7

Dean

We loaded what we could into Grace's Chevelle, but Serra still looked unhappy. "I'm going to stay," she was telling Grace as I carried the last box from the trunk at the foot of the dead Warrior's bed, "And you guys can come back with the Tank."

"We're not leaving you here alone," Grace answered, rolling her eyes. Her body language was still all off. She stood rigidly and kept looking southeast, like she could see something I couldn't. "I'll stay with you and Dean can bring the Tank back."

I was shaking my head before Grace had even finished her sentence. "Look," I sighed. "No one is staying anywhere. We all came together, and we're all going to leave together." I gestured to my nephew, who was asleep on the back seat of the Chevelle, "We'll go, drop off Lee and get our shit together. Maybe get some sleep." Both Serra and Grace were already shaking their heads. "No one is going to come and get this stuff. There's no hint of anyone else knowing it's here. We got the important stuff, along with most of the Weapons Stone blades. We have the rock. Let's go home and reevaluate."

Grace looked like she could have hit me.

I took a deep breath and decided that it was time to open that can of worms.

"Alright, wife," I sighed. "What's the deal? Over the last forty-five minutes, you are all kinda pissy and there is no rhyme or reason behind it, from what I can tell."

Serra turned to evaluate Grace and crossing her arms, agreed with me.

I could tell that she was pissed when she locked her teeth together, but Grace took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "Okay," she began, "now that I'm listening, I can hear another one."

"Another one?" I asked. "Another one what?"

Serra tilted her head and faced her sister. "Another Stone?" She whipped her head back to me and widened her eyes before staring back at her sister. "How come you can hear them and I can't?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Grace furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't know," she grunted. "I'm sure there's a reason, but it's out there and it's taking everything I am not to push both of you down and leave you here while I go search for it."

I licked my lips and approached my wife, holding my hands out to her shoulders. "Gracie," I began quietly. "Come on. We can't start pushing our luck now. Let it go."

Grace opened her eyes and stared at me, dangerously at first, but seemed to force herself to relax long enough to nod. "Yeah, I know," she whispered. "Okay."

I glanced at Serra and gestured towards the car. "Come on," I repeated. "Everyone goes home together. We'll get things good tomorrow and come back with Sam."

Finally moving in the right direction, I took the keys from Grace and slid into the driver's seat of her deep, metal-flake purple Chevelle and started it up. She took her place in the passenger seat after Serra squeezed into the back with her sleeping son.

…

Serra

"Come _on_ already," I whined, bouncing on the toes of my boots as I waited for Grace to finish brushing her teeth after getting home from dropping the kids off at school. "You should have brushed your teeth before getting in the drop-off-line, don't you think?"

Grace rolled her eyes at me and shook her head. "I'm finally back in control, Sere," she muttered after spitting out the toothpaste foam. "I don't know what came over me last night, but I wasn't a fan. I'd rather take my time, get focused, and not let it happen again."

"Uh-huh," I muttered, glancing away from her. From the living room, I could hear the front door open and listened as Dean greeted Jody. "Jody's here," I continued. "Get your ass in gear. I wanna get out there."

"Yeah, whatever," Grace answered as she rinsed her mouth.

Turning away from my annoying sister, I headed for the main room of the big house and was caught by surprise that it wasn't just Jody standing in the middle of the kitchen. Billy was here, too.

"Bill!" I greeted, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

Bill Griffin turned, carrying his coffee mug and tossed me a grin before taking a sip. "I was with Jody anyway," he began, lifting his eyebrows and daring me to say anything about their romance. "Decided to come along for the ride to see those babies of yours again."

"Uh-huh," I repeated, holding in my comments and grin. "Grace hears another Stone, so we're gonna go after that one first, before we go back to the weapons house."

"Another Stone?" Bill repeated, setting down his coffee mug. "Besides the one from the guy that shot her?"

I nodded, leaning on the counter, still grinning about him and Jody finally being a couple. "Yeah, we got the guy's last night, but she got all weird about another one while we were still there."

Bill turned to glance at Dean, who shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, saying, "Don't look at me, man. Weird is just a way of life now. I don't have the energy to question it."

Taking a breath and running his fingers through his near-white beard, Billy sat at the bar stool and tilted his head at me. "I feel like it's important to have this conversation with you while you're contained and focused," he began, staring at me.

"What?" I was confused and watched Billy for any hint of what he was talking about.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he glanced at Dean, then back at me. "Are you legitimately saying that you don't remember coming to me with a rock you couldn't identify when you were about eighteen? Maybe nineteen?"

I kind of felt like my life was flashing before my eyes as I watched Billy sit and stare at me, waiting for me to reply. Dean was silent but stepped to Billy's side of the bar to watch me as I could feel my eyes widen. "It didn't happen, Billy. You're forgetting the part where it didn't happen."

Dean was watching us like a tennis match, "Oh, something happened," he chuckled. "This sounds like another story like El Paso."

"You shut your dirty mouth," I snapped, pointing at my brother-in-law. It was all coming screaming back into my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, begging silently that Grace stay in the bathroom, so she didn't physically hear what was coming. I remembered. I remembered too well, and it was not something I wanted my sister to find out, even now.

I had made a bet with a Crossroads.

I won, but that would hardly be the point to Grace.

Until Bill brought it up, I had forgotten it had ever happened. We decided it didn't happen, because if Grace ever found out, I would wish I had lost, so because of that, I had repressed the memory so hard, it just didn't exist.

Except that it did.

"She's been quiet longer than I think I have ever seen," Dean commented, patting Bill's shoulder. "Congratulations. This must be good."

"Serra," Bill commented, his voice serious. "That Stone that Grace hears? It's gotta be the one in my vault in Deerhead."

Dean stepped back and held up his hands, his mouth dropping open. He glanced at my husband, who had come in the back door and lifted his eyebrows at me, "You have a _Weapons Stone_ in Deerhead, and we never knew?"

Gesturing to me, Bill lifted his eyebrows and shook his head. "Take it up with the natural disaster, over here," he sighed. "Made me swear that I would never talk about it. Sorry, kiddo," Bill continued as Grace walked out into the living room with her eyes open as wide as I had ever seen them. "Cat's outta the bag."

"You knew about the other Stone?" Grace whispered.

"I didn't know it was _that_ Stone!" I squeaked, taking a step away from my big, angry, Nephilim sister. We were both in our mid-thirties and I was still terrified of angering Grace. I needed to get a grip. "When I won it, I didn't know what it was. I just knew that it was important and probably cursed, so I didn't touch it. I brought it to Bill, made him promise not to tell you, and made it back in time to hunt vampires with you and the Adaka'i boys in Georgia!"

"_That_ was the reason you were late to the hunt in _Georgia?"_ Grace's voice matched mine and I took another step back. "_Serendipity Adeline_, what did you _do_?"

Sam, Dean, and Billy were silent as they watched us go toe to toe. I was scared out of my wits of what Grace would do, but I had to press on. We all knew the Weapons Stone was there in Deerhead, now, so there was no point in trying to lie about it anymore.

I exhaled slowly, puffing out my cheeks as I searched for the best, most believable version of the truth I could muster. Already, I knew it was too late; Grace had her eyes closed as she telepathically searched for my memory. Faster than I was ready for, her bright blue eyes flashed open and she glared at me.

"You made a _deal _with a_ Crossroads Demon_?" she whispered.

I felt like a fish out of water as I opened and closed my mouth silently. Finally, I had no choice but to answer, so I went with the first thing that came to my mind, "It was a bet, not a deal."

"_That's_ what you have to say?" Grace screeched. "I could slap you across the face, Serra! What the _fuck_ were you _thinking_?"

By now, Sam and Dean were both staring at me, and Billy did everything he could to shrink into the floor and disappear, wanting no part of how angry my sister was. I opened my mouth to take a breath again, but I couldn't make the words come out.

"Oh my god, Serra, _say something._" Grace slammed her hands down onto the countertop and leaned towards me so that we were almost nose to nose. It took everything I was to stay rooted to the spot and stare back at her.

"I was with Miguel in Georgia and got hungry," I whispered, forcing myself to tell the story to those who hadn't been able to read it from my mind. Even with Grace seeing the memories, I knew they were just flashes, and she would expect a further explanation. "I went out for food at about two in the morning. He…he was there."

"He? He who?" Sam asked, tilting his head. Sam's disappointment was almost harder to see than Grace's fury.

"The demon," I swallowed. "He just showed up.

Dean narrowed his eyes, watching us all interact very carefully. I took a deep breath, finally breaking eye contact with Grace and staring at the countertop in front of me. "His name was Knox and he had heard about what a good shot I was," I licked my lips, forcing my voice to stay loud enough to hear. "He made a bet that he was a better shot than me."

"A bet?" Dean asked, glancing to Sam, then Grace, trying to get clarification. "Not a deal."

Grace clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she glared at me. "Same fucking difference."

"My… 'services' for this…rock," I whispered. "He didn't want my soul, per say, he wanted to use me to do his dirty work here on Earth if he won."

Grace was seething. I could feel the shameful prick of tears in my eyes, remembering how panicked I had been, trying to get back to Georgia ahead of Grace when we hunted the coven of vampires with the Adaka'i brothers, all those years ago. I had pushed it so far from my mind that the memories, up until now, had just been shoved away and walled up. I hadn't thought about it since getting home after the hunt.

"Oh my god, Grace," I whispered, my voice tight, "I know how stupid it was. And if I had known what I know now, I would have never considered it, but I _knew_ I could win."

She didn't answer, but stared right back at me, waiting for me to continue.

"It was a target duel," I breathed. "Five shots. I stacked them." I swallowed, trying to stay composed. "He didn't."

"All for a rock that you didn't understand," Grace answered. "How could you have been so _stupid_?"

"I was young," I answered, speaking only to my sister. "Dad's death was still fresh and that rock…that Stone called to me, even then. I didn't know what it was, but I knew it had to be mine, no matter the cost."

"The cost?" Grace lifted her eyebrows as a tear dripped down her cheek. "You are worth more than any Stone." She stared up at the ceiling, trying to get her tears to reabsorb. "What would I have done, Serra? What if you had lost?"

I licked my lips and wiped my cheeks, not allowing my tears to fall. "I didn't," I breathed.

"That's not the point," Grace replied. "That has never been the point. You have always taken unnecessary risks." She turned away from me and stared out the window, taking a few deep breaths. The boys both leaned away, letting Grace's words sink in and fester a bit before we continued.

Sam stared at me; his eyebrows knitted together, and Dean just stood, his lips pursed and his hands in his pockets as he stared at me. He knew better than anyone that Grace would not easily move on from this discussion, and there would never be a time in our lives that she wouldn't fear bringing it back up. For the first time, I saw it flash across my brother-in-law's face: pity.

Now, I couldn't decide which was worse; Grace's anger or Dean's pity.

"It was fifteen years ago, Grace," I muttered. "I'm fine. Everything worked out and we landed on top, just like we always do, and now, thanks to my foresight, we are up another Weapons Stone."

Dean shook his head slowly as he let his jade eyes fall to stare at his boots. Sam made a face, almost cringing at what I had just said, and slowly, my sister turned around with her eyebrows in her hair line, ready to light me up.

"Thanks to your foresight," she repeated slowly and enunciating each word very deliberately.

I took a deep, shaky breath and decided to dig in, "Yeah," I nodded. "I went with my gut, which is how I've always lived my life, and it's never once let us down. My job, my _one_ job is to be a Warrior of Heaven. I knew that night, that I would win. I could feel it in my bones."

Grace locked her teeth together, allowing me to continue.

"You spent years telling me to take my doubt and turn it into something useful," I pleaded. "It became my religion, Grace." I pushed my hand into my jeans pocket and pulled out the twenty-year-old bullet slug that our dad had pulled out of Grace's hip, that demon-filled night after her high school graduation. The bullet fragment that taught me never to take another bad shot again. Opening the palm of my hand to show her, I whispered, "This is my rosary and I pray to it every fucking day." I grit my teeth and stared into my sister's bright blue eyes. "Protecting you, and now this family, has been what I live and breathe, and I knew, if I won that night in Georgia, it would confirm that I was on the right path. I survived, won the Stone, and here we are, fifteen years into the hardest fight of our lives, but we're _still here_."

Grace lowered her gaze to stare at the bullet fragment sitting in the palm of my hand. "I should have learned by now to trust you," Grace answered, still with her eyes on the lead slug in my hand. "I just can't believe that you would have taken a chance like that."

"I did, and I know I shouldn't have, but I'm not sorry."

Nodding slowly, Grace took another breath through her nose. Slowly, she turned to Bill and tilted her head questioningly, "And you knew about this?" she asked, not hiding the irritation from her voice.

Billy narrowed his eyes and approached the bar, matching Grace's tone, "I did know," he nodded, "but I also know that you would have come down on her just as hard back then, which would have done more damage than good, especially with your Daddy still fresh." He took a step towards the counter and bristled his white mustache, "I knew very well what she had, and I did my job keeping it safe, all these years." He looked proud of himself as he continued, "Learned how to make a treasures vault that no cosmic being can get through."

"Where'd you learn that?" I asked, feeling the initial fear and anxiety from telling Grace finally start to fade.

"A friend of mine."

Grace smiled wistfully, "Seems that everyone knew Bobby Singer."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Dean

My wife and her sister are enough to drive a man to drink. If they're not going at each other for one thing, it's another. The constant bickering is a little too much sometimes, and I wondered momentarily how their father survived the teen years.

"He didn't," Grace replied to my thoughts without looking up from making a pot of coffee.

I swallowed, realizing that Truman Browning had been dead before Serra was sixteen, and when Grace was barely out of nineteen. "I know, baby," I cringed at my inconsideration. "Shit, I'm sorry."

Grace shook it off, turning and waving her hand as she leaned against the countertop. "Dad wouldn't have known what to do with us anyway. When Serra was young, she was a great little soldier. Took orders and followed directions really well." She hesitated momentarily, searching for the words. "She still is, out in the field, when it matters. I'm just always curious how much Dad knew about the job assignments."

I pursed my lips and nodded at my wife, pretending that I knew what she was talking about.

"Warrior," she stated, holding out her hand. "Nephilim. Now Gatekeepers and Vessels." She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly, looking disappointed. "It's all a little much."

"I'd like to think that if he knew, he would have talked about it with you guys," I offered, tilting my head. "But at the same time, dads like ours suffered a bit when it came to the communication skills. Thought it was better if we just didn't talk about it."

"Something tells me that Tru and John would have gotten along well."

I chuckled, picturing it. "Star-crossed brothers," I chuckled. "Oh man."

Serra came back into the kitchen, carrying duffle bags and empty gun cases. "So when are we leaving?" she asked, not wasting another minute. "I wanna get out there before anyone else does and empty that house."

Grace nodded, sighing heavily at her little sister. "Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "Alright."

…

Grace

We stood in front of the dead Warrior of Heaven's house and I put my hands on my hips, considering what to do next. "Only take the stuff that's actually useful. We have plenty of weapons. Take the spell work, the chest of ingredients, the Weapons Stone weapons and ammo." Serra was nodding as I explained what to do. "And let's take the research he did on us too. I'd rather not have it be made public when someone finally gets out here."

Dean sighed. "I'm already tired," he complained.

"And what are you going to be doing, bossing us around?" Serra chimed in. "What if something we think is valuable, but you don't?"

I glanced at my sister and lifted an eyebrow, "Like what?"

"I don't know," she rolled her eyes. "I'm not gonna bother telling you."

"Fine."

Dean and Sam both walked towards the house, ignoring our mini argument. We both hesitated, watching our men head towards the house and nodded appreciatively. "Are his legs that bowed for the reason I'm thinking?" Serra muttered, falling into step next to me.

"I'll let you use your imagination," I smiled wryly.

"Guess they have that in common," Serra chuckled, shaking her head.

We worked for close to three hours, sorting through boxes of ingredients and stores of ammunition. Serra made piles by the door of boxes to go out to the Tank and Sammy wore a path in the overgrown front yard, taking the boxes one at a time out to the truck. Dean helped me sift through the ingredients and spell books that littered the house. There was no rhyme or reason for organization, so it seemed to take us longer. Once we thought we got through a certain subject, we would find another box with similar ingredients or books. It was a never-ending nightmare.

As Dean sorted next to me, he hummed "For Whom the Bell Tolls" under his breath to pass the time. Turning towards the phone, I heard it before anyone else, so I was the only one who wasn't startled when it began to ring. Jumping to his feet, Dean whipped around to face the land-line that shrilled next to him.

We all glanced at each other, barely allowing ourselves to breathe as an antiquated answering machine picked up. "No one is available now," the mechanic, computerized voice began, "please leave a message after the tone."

There was a long beep and we stared, still collectively holding our breath. "Daniel," a man's voice echoed through the room and waited as if Daniel would suddenly pick up the phone. "Daniel, you haven't checked in and Nehemiah needs a status report."

I glanced at Dean and he shrugged, then turned his attention to Sam, who had already pulled out a notebook and was writing furiously with a pen. "We can replay it," Dean muttered, chuckling quietly.

"Daniel, are you really not there?" the man's irritated voice continued. "Look, you need to check in by eight or we're going to assume the worst. Nehemiah will send the next guy if you weren't able to do your job…and you know what that means. He'll come for you."

Serra glared at the answering machine, listening intently. She turned and lifted her eyebrows, "The next guy?" she asked. I shushed her.

"When you're out of the can, call me back, man. I need to tell Nehemiah you took care of the Nephilim."

With that, he hung up the phone and the answering machine beeped loudly, rewinding the message it had successfully recorded.

Sammy made a couple more notes and closed the notebook with a snap. "So, our Warrior was Daniel and our new Big Bad is Nehemiah," he ventured. "Glad introductions have been made."

I pressed my lips together, reaching out with my abilities, listening for the signature of the voice we just heard over the answering machine. It wasn't something I had ever practiced, so I had no idea what I was looking for and got frustrated quickly.

"Alright, so we have a starting point," Serra commented. "It's nice to know that these assholes have names."

Sam tilted his head. "What, are you just going to look Nehemiah up in the phonebook and hope for the best?"

Clicking her tongue and rolling her eyes, Serra stared at Sam, irritated. "No, _Samantha_," she sighed. "But at least we don't have to stand around, scratching our heads, and wondering who the hell it is." She turned and shoved another box towards the entry way. "Took us months just to figure out Delilah's name."

"Did you just call me Samantha?"

"Yeah, you big baby," she muttered. Dean laughed next to her and Sam shot him a look.

I took a deep breath and nodded, surveying what was left. "I don't like that someone's out there looking for our dead Warrior," I sighed. "We need to wrap this up and get out of here."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Dean answered. "We're out of here in twenty."

…

"Did Daniel answer the phone?" a quiet deep Southern accented voice rolled lazily into the small room like coils of smoke. "Or am I about to be disappointed once more?"

A tall, lanky man with short, curly black hair turned towards the voice slowly and carefully, taking a slow breath and hoped it wouldn't be his last. "No, sir," he whispered. "I left a message."

"A message," he repeated, taking slow steps into the room. "And what of the other three warriors at our disposal, Carter?"

The man called Carter winced when his name was said aloud, almost as if he had been physically struck. "They are ready when you are, Nehemiah," he answered. "I told Daniel he had until eight to call me back and report in."

"Generous," Nehemiah answered. Standing up to his full height, Nehemiah Clay stood over six feet tall. In his previous lives, he could have been a basketball star or a cross country runner. He was long and lean, but muscular enough to be intimidating when necessary. Slowly and methodically, Nehemiah rolled the sleeves of his white linen shirt up to his elbows, exposing intricate, detailed tattoos that began at his wrists and lead their way up both of his arms. Entire sleeves of protective sigils and Enochian lettering wound their way up both sinewy arms.

Carter waited patiently for Nehemiah to speak, running his hands over his tight curls nervously.

"Who is the next, well-prepared Warrior?" Nehemiah asked, buttoning the rolled sleeve into place. "Daniel had his research in order. We can simply pass his work onto the next Stone worker."

Turning and moving towards a tall table, Carter flipped open a book, skimming through the pages for a name. "The next one with a Stone is Angelique Dawes," Carter explained. "She's a police officer in Indiana."

"Police officer," Nehemiah repeated. "That could get messy in a hurry. Too legit, although we will have to relieve her of her Stone." He sighed, turning towards Carter and joining him at the table. "Next."

Pointing, Carter glanced up at the extremely large man. "Ryan Strauss," he whispered, pointing at the list. "He has a Stone and his mother is recently deceased, meaning he's a bit vulnerable."

"And what does Mr. Strauss do for a living?"

"He works for Browning Arms Company, assembling rifles."

Nehemiah smiled, nodding his approval. "Isn't that appropriate?" he chuckled. "I think it's time to give our friend Ryan a call. He seems like a nice opportunity."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Grace

We got home a little after eight that evening, and I managed to get most of the kids into bed at a decent time. Everett continued to follow me around after his bath, though, and eventually, I gave up arguing with him and carried him around on my hip.

"You're getting too big to carry," I whispered into his hair as we walked through the living room and into the kitchen, where most of the family was sitting.

He nestled closer into my neck. "Not getting too big," he answered. "Just right."

I chuckled and took a deep breath, hugging my son closer. "You're right," I murmured. "Just right."

Dean's jade eyes flicked to us as we came into the kitchen and he smiled warmly. "Hey, little man," he whispered. "Aren't you ready for bed?"

From the crook of my neck, I felt Everett shake his head.

Smiling and nodding, Dean rubbed our son's back and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Cuddle time is all the time," he commented. He turned his attention to me and tilted his head. "Serra went to put her kids down."

"At her own house?" I asked, feigning surprise. "I am shocked."

"Tell me about it."

Sammy dried his hands on the towel hanging from the oven. "She'll be asleep by the time I walk back over there," he added. "Today was a big day for her."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "A big day and lots of new toys."

Billy and Jody turned to each of us as we spoke as if they were watching a tennis match. "Heard about all of the new treasures," Billy chuckled. "Sounds like she's in heaven."

I nodded, sitting next to Dean on the bench at our over-sized farm table. "Got to meet our new players, too. Keep an ear out for a man named Nehemiah."

"Nehemiah," Billy repeated. "Got it. Do we know he's a man?"

Shrugging, Dean sighed, "Could be. Could be anything else, too. Angel, demon, whatever." He rubbed his face with both of his palms, "All we have right now is a couple of names and the fact that he's sending Warriors of Heaven to try and kill my wife."

"Try," I grinned. "It'll take more than that to take me out."

Dean tilted his head at me and lifted an eyebrow. "What is it you're always telling Luck? Don't get cocky?"

…

Ryan Strauss

The pull was louder today than it had ever been. After another take-out dinner from my favorite chicken place down the street in Old Ogden, I jumped in the shower and tried to ignore the insistent call from the footlocker at the foot of my bed. I played on my phone a bit, answered a couple of emails, swiped left a few too many times, and finally, found myself standing in front of the footlocker again.

"Fuck," I sighed, shaking my head.

I was hardly a sentimental person, but when my mom died, I couldn't help but save a few important things to remember her by. We didn't have the best relationship and I hadn't even lived in the same city she did since I was ten. She was too busy; off trying to save the world to take care of us. It was one of those messy divorces where my brother and I chose to live with my dad, and I don't remember her being upset over my decision.

The few treasures I saved from my mom's house were shoved into the bottom of the footlocker.

"Fine," I sighed, "let's get this over with."

I had flown back to my hometown for my mother's funeral, staying with my dad longer than I wanted to, just catching up. I took the time to hit up a few of my high school buddies who were still hanging around and managed a game of golf with a college friend as well. Overall, the trip back to Kansas hadn't been a bad one, but because of the circumstances, I didn't allow myself to enjoy it too much.

Before the week of the memorial service, I had met Dad in Missouri to help finish cleaning out Mom's tiny house. As I reached for the handle of the footlocker, my memories forced me to live it all over again.

"Hey Dad," I greeted solemnly as he opened the door.

"Ry," Dad sighed, holding his arms out for a hug. "I'm so sorry, son."

I was already shaking my head. "Yeah," I agreed, "me too."

We began in the living room, clearing out suitcases of paperwork and newspaper articles. I sifted through what seemed like an entire library or old, eclectic books about heaven and hell, demons and angels, spells and witches. Holding one of the books in both of my hands, I took a deep breath and read the title to myself, _Heavenly Hosts._ Immediately, my mind was thrown back to the memories I had locked away of being attacked by smoke-like creatures with my girlfriend at the time, right after our high school graduation party.

I had never told anyone about it.

"What is all this, Mom?" I wondered aloud.

Dad turned and raised his voice, "What?"

"Nothing," I replied immediately. "Mom's got some weird books."

Shaking his head from the opposite side of the room, Dad sighed. "Don't get me started," he muttered. "Just toss them."

Pressing my lips together, I turned back to the pile of books and took three of the more interesting titles and dropped them into my 'keep' box.

Now, kneeling in front of my footlocker, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, wondering what in the cold hell could be buzzing around in my brain. Slowly, I opened the locker and stared down at its contents. The three books I had smuggled from Mom's house were on top, along with the leather jacket she always had worn. I had also taken a couple of turquoise rings of hers and a very ornate silver necklace, which lay carefully on top of the worn, brown leather. Moving them aside, I reached for the box that held one of the secret things I had discovered in her bedroom: a delicately engraved knife, much longer than my hand, made of a metal I didn't recognize. When I had picked it out of the drawer of her nightstand, it was almost as if it warmed to my touch.

It was almost like it recognized me, which feels even crazier than it sounds.

I had been working at Browning Arms for over ten years and I had never had a metal warm to my touch so immediately.

I took a deep breath and held the knife for a few seconds, wondering if this was the thing that seemed to be calling to me. As comforting as it was to hold, I knew it wasn't it. Pushing the leather sheath back over the blade, I carefully set it on top of her leather jacket as well and continued to dig.

Finally, past the books and the tiny statues of varying religious figures from all spiritual walks of life, I came to the most mysterious find at my mother's house. I hadn't even told Dad about this one, not feeling that I could explain my need to keep it. It wasn't even worth the conversation, but I knew I had to have it.

When I found it, the stone had been wrapped in a dark red velvet, lovingly placed on a pedestal in Mom's closet. It shimmered without light and had markings inscribed on it in a language I didn't recognize. The stone seemed to breathe; pulsing with my own heartbeat and begging to be plucked from the pedestal.

Without hesitating, I glanced behind me to make sure Dad didn't see how stupid I looked, rewrapping a rock in a velvet blanket and shoving to the bottom of my 'keep' box. I had packed it in my suitcase, gone to the funeral, droned through countless strangers shaking my hand and congratulating me on having a mother they could all count on.

Funny thing was, I couldn't.

These people I had never met nor heard about all seemed to have some sort of relationship with my mother that my brother and I never had. Later, while having a drink with Dad out on the back porch, I finally gathered the courage to ask.

"Who were all those people today?" I asked, taking a sip of whiskey.

Dad slowly shook his head and shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, son," he muttered. "I never understood your mother. Always talked about things that I didn't want to know about."

"That's why you left her?"

"That's why she left me."

I nodded slowly, trying to understand my parents.

Again, kneeling in front of the footlocker, I flashed to that graduation party evening in the storm, battling creatures I couldn't identify with a girl that, at the time, I had hoped to marry, even if she had lied to me earlier that day about being a psychic. We were kids. Kids say stupid stuff to get attention.

I bent over the open locker and took a deep breath, reaching for the deep red velvet cloth once more. I hadn't touched the stone when I had discovered it in my mother's closet, but here in my apartment, I felt safe enough to look like an idiot.

Picking it up with both hands, I hefted the rock, still wrapped tightly in velvet. It was heavier than I thought it should have been, considering its small size, no larger than a cantaloupe. I let the velvet fall to the side and examined the carvings.

"Mom, what were you into?" I asked, shaking my head slowly.

The pull I had felt all evening continued to pulse in my ears, right along with my heartbeat. Now that I had the rock in my hands, I felt closer to peace. Allowing the velvet to pool on the floor next to me, I took a deep breath and used my free hand to pick up the stone with my bare hand.

It happened in an instant.

The world around me went silent: if I hadn't known better, I would have thought I had gone deaf, but at the same time, the universe seemed to align perfectly and for the first time things I would have never considered thinking about made perfect sense.

Yes, there was a Heaven and a Hell, and there was everything in between.

Yes, there were angels and demons.

There were Gates and Gatekeepers and they all needed to be protected.

Above all, the Nephilim and her family would need me to help them.

Opening my eyes, I gasped and dropped the stone and watched it roll haphazardly across my bedroom. I had seen her face just as clearly as I had seen it almost twenty years ago.

Grace Browning had been telling the truth and she was much more than a psychic.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Grace

"We're going to have company," I whispered, closing my eyes and whispering as images floated through my mind. Someone somewhere had said my name and pictured my face.

Dean turned slowly, waiting for me to finish my thought, but I didn't have any more information for him. He lifted his eyebrows and asked, "This very second? It's midnight."

Slowly, I shook my head and listened hard. "No," I continued. "He's far."

"He?"

I turned to my husband and took a deep breath. "He called me Grace Browning."

Pursing his lips, Dean approached me, leaving what was left of his coffee on the kitchen table. "So, he knows you from a while ago," he answered, nodding slowly. "Do we know who 'he' is?"

Pressing my own lips together, I made an apologetic face as realization hit me. "Ryan," I sighed. "His name is Ryan and we dated in high school."

"Another one of your boyfriends, pining for you."

I giggled, "It's weird, though, right? Why now?"

"You tell me, Nephilim."

Concentrating again, I listened to the same train of thought I had tapped into only moments before. With my eyes closed, I listened to Ryan's thoughts, now that I was tuned in. "He's going through a footlocker," I whispered. "There's lots of stuff piled in it, like he just brought it home. They're not his things."

Dean waited patiently, listening to me with his head tilted.

In my mind's eye, I could watch Ryan unwrap something with reverence. It was covered with dark velvet, and very carefully, he uncovered the object he was holding. I recognized it at once.

My eyes snapped open and my eyes focused on my husband, still watching me. "Oh my God," I breathed. "He's a Warrior."

…

Dean

The next morning, I watched from my corner of the kitchen, sipping black coffee from my favorite mug as Grace went through the motions, telling her sister and Sammy what she told me last night. Serra listened carefully, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head doubtfully.

"Ryan? Ryan Strauss?" Serra moved her head back and made a face, shaking her head. "Dude, the last time we saw him, he couldn't get away from us fast enough. Those demons that night sent him over the edge." Her hazel eyes bounced to me, gauging my reaction. "There's no way he's a Warrior with a capital W."

I shrugged halfheartedly at my sister-in-law. "Isn't there?" I asked, setting down my mug. "The likelihood of Grace hearing or seeing something that ain't true seems lower and lower every day." I glanced at my wife and took a breath. "If this Nehemiah dude is sending Warriors to suddenly come and to try and kill Grace, then maybe we can get to Ryan before he does."

"Do we know that's what's happening?"

"Do we know that it's not?"

Grace shrugged uninterestedly. "One doesn't exactly seem like a trend," she muttered, taking a bite of toast. "But it is a little coincidental that Ryan is a Warrior."

Serra clicked her tongue. "I'm not admitting it until I see it for sure."

I chuckled, picking up my mug again, "Sounds like you're a little jealous of all the attention the other two Warriors are getting."

"Not jealous," Serra insisted. "Wary."

"Mmm," I muttered behind my coffee cup.

Grace interjected, "Either way, he's headed this way. He's caught our scent and makes house calls."

My eyes flicked to Grace, still with a smile in my voice. "How many of your old boyfriends are we gonna host?"

Turning to me and winking, Grace poured herself another cup of coffee. She turned and leaned on the countertop, holding her mug with both hands. "I dunno," she grinned. "How much time you got?"

"Funny," I replied as Everett shuffled into the kitchen, his eyes still squinty from his recent wake up. "Hey, little man," I greeted. "Want some food?"

Shaking his head, Everett headed straight to Grace and held out his hands. She immediately unfolded her arms and held them low enough for Everett to reach. Our son leaned into her and closed his eyes contentedly.

For the first time, Sam shifted in his seat and took a deep breath, running his hands through his too-long hair. "When we unloaded the stuff from the dead Warrior's house, there were a couple of journals at the bottom of the trunk with lists full of locations where you two have hunted. He has notes on what you hunted, who helped, how much was in the newspaper…it's like he was invested in you from the beginning, but not violently." I turned to listen to my brother, taking another sip of coffee. Sam took a deep breath and continued, "His attention didn't turn violent until a few weeks ago, right after you were in the paper for the award the hospital won, Sere. That's when the journal entries become obsessive and track Grace's every move." He shrugged, "It's almost like he has always been tapped into your movements, maybe because he's a Warrior of Heaven, but he…he changed after that article."

"Like a spell," Grace added. "It was a one-eighty turn."

"Yeah, that's the same feel I've got too," Sammy agreed. He glanced at me. "We all know how much influence spells can have over people."

Automatically, I was sure that everyone's thoughts turned to Delilah and her coven of witches. She controlled them with spells as well, and it cost my wife her grace and, eventually, her life.

I pressed my teeth together and took a deep breath. "This is turnin' ugly in a hurry," I sighed. "Why control the Warriors, if that's what the caster is doing? We dealing with more witches? Another Delilah?" I glanced back at Grace. "What's the endgame?"

She shook her head. "Delilah wanted the Gates," she answered quietly. "But this time, he went after me. It could be anything."

"Not the answer I was lookin' for."

…

Dean

"Righty tighty," I muttered to Lib as she attempted to tighten a wheel lug on Grace's Chevelle. "Righty tighty, lefty loosey."

Liberty giggled and turned her attention back to the wheel and the wrench she was holding. "That's a silly rhyme, Daddy," she answered as she successfully tightened the lug nut on the rim.

I nodded, standing from my squatting position. "Yeah, but you'll remember next time." She finished tightening the bolts as best she could, and I made a mental note to go back and tighten them again before Grace drove it again. "Meatloaf," I began, taking a deep breath, "when's the last time you practiced with Momma or Uncle Cas?"

She glanced up at me, her green eyes bright, "Practiced?" she asked.

I nodded, leaning up against the car and folding my arms. "Yeah," I sighed. "You know, with your shields and the Gate?"

Liberty stood quickly, her attention on the car forgotten for the moment. "Oh!" she replied, grinning. "We practiced my shields last week, but I haven't done a Gate in a while." She took a deep breath and sighed through her nose. "It's hard."

I nodded slowly, bending down to my oldest daughter's level. "I know it is, kiddo, but I need to know that you can make a shield without thinking about it," I explained. "The Gate isn't as important right now, especially considering that you open Earth's Gate, but the shield," I sighed again. "It's real important, Lib. You need to be able to protect yourself."

Watching me carefully, I knew that my daughter had begun searching my mind for clues as to why I was suddenly taking a sudden, fresh interest in her abilities. This was more Grace and Cas' territory. I stuck more to things I understood, like cars.

"I'll save you the mind-reading, kiddo," I smiled. "The guy that attacked Mom was like Auntie Luck. He was a Warrior of Heaven and he had a lot of abilities. If something like that happens here, I need to know that you and your sisters and brother can protect yourselves."

Nodding slowly, Lib took a deep breath. "I think we can," she answered slowly. "Faith can, for sure. She can throw her shields and protect all of us at the same time."

"I know she can."

"But yeah," Lib continued, "I can make a bubble. Glory can make a bubble."

I narrowed my eyes, "What about Ev?"

Libby shrugged, "He has the ability," she answered. "But he's not as predictable."

"Okay," I sighed. "That's what I want you guys to focus on for the next few weeks." I glanced up at the house. "And remember; bottom line, you think first and use your surroundings to tell you what to do. Trust your gut and keep each other safe."

"Is there something about to happen, Daddy?

I took a deep breath and stared down at my seven-year-old. "We're Winchesters, baby girl," I sighed. "Something is always about to happen, but we'll be ready for it when it does."

Liberty nodded slowly. "Because we're the Winchesters."

"Damn right."

I heard the screen door slam and smiled lightly as my wife and other three kids made their way towards the barn. Glory and Everett raced each other towards where Lib and I stood, with Faith bounding behind them, concentrating with furrowed eyebrows as she made her way through the wheat.

"What's up?" I greeted, seeing the look on Grace's face.

"Ryan's here," she answered, nodding back towards the highway. "About ten minutes out."

I sighed heavily and shook my head, wiping my hands on the shop rag. "And what are we doing once he gets here? Is he coming like the last one?"

"You mean is he coming to kill me?"

I lifted my eyebrows at my wife questioningly.

"I don't think he is," she answered quietly. "But trust me, we're not taking any chances anymore. I'm ready for anything."

…

Grace

My memory kept trying to remind me that I never actually broke up with my ex-boyfriend. He left after seeing too much; experiencing too much of our world. The demons that Serra, Dad, and I had fought off with salt rounds and the exorcism recordings all those years ago were not things that Ryan was ready to handle. Ironically, he had been a Warrior even then, but neither one of us knew the talents that he possessed.

As I watched him approach in his champagne colored Honda Accord, I shook my head. My worlds were colliding, and I wasn't really ready for it.

I extended my senses, reading his thoughts and searching for the reason he was standing in my gravel driveway. Ryan Strauss was tall and broad, maturing into his size nicely. Momentarily, I wondered if he was taller than Dean, but shaking my head again, I dismissed the thought. Turning slowly, Ryan took in his surroundings, looking more and more confused by the minute. Finally, his blue eyes found mine from across the gravel.

"Grace?" he whispered.

I licked my lips and took a slow breath through my nose. "Hey, Ry," I answered quietly.

Looking almost like he wanted to cry, Ryan took a shaky breath. "Why am I here?"

"We should probably go sit down," I replied, unmoving from my place on the porch.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Grace

Dean took his usual place against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms, watching Ryan like a hawk. We had been through introductions and the kids were entertained in the panic room for the next two hours watching the latest Disney movie. I glanced to my husband repeatedly, attempting to reassure him and keep him calm, especially with so many unknowns. Dean met my eyes willingly and pressed his lips together, forcing his dimples to show. He was being polite long enough to get Ryan in the loop, but he wasn't making any promises.

Before I got a chance to follow Dean's train of thoughts, Serra slammed our back door open and took a deep breath. "Did I miss anything?" she asked, sounding winded.

"No," I shook my head. "We're waiting for you."

Ryan turned and made a face, nodding gently at my sister. "Why does everyone already seem to know that I was coming?"

"Because we did," Serra answered. "Grace is a bit more than a psychic, buddy. Welcome to the shitshow."

He looked from me to my sister and back again. "Well," he sighed, "let's get into this."

…

Dean

The girls talked with Ryan for an hour and a half straight, trying to catch him up on the last decade or so. Grace filled in a lot of the missing pieces simply by feeding him entire scenes through her touch. I watched carefully, waiting for Ryan to flip on us and try to kill Grace, but I knew that my wife was true to her word. If he turned on us, I knew he'd be dead where he stood.

Grace wasn't messing around.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, glancing at the screen and saw my brother's name. "Hey, Sammy," I greeted quietly. "You on your way home?"

"Yeah," he answered, his voice sounding far away and full of static.

"Where are you?" I asked, turning away from the girls and headed back towards the field. "I can barely hear you."

Sammy cut out again and I realized that the problem probably wasn't on his end of the phone. I glanced back at my Nephilim wife and her Warrior of Heaven sister and realized the static and feedback on the cells were probably from Grace and her protective shields around each of us.

I hung up on my brother, knowing he couldn't hear me, and tapped out a message instead. _Just get here,_ I typed. _Ryan, the other warrior is here, and Grace and Serra are filling him in. Looks to be on our side._

_ Looks to be?_ Sam answered.

I licked my lips and glanced back at Grace again. _Yeah._

"From the sound of things and from your memories," Grace was saying as I approached the living room, "your mother was a hunter. You didn't know?"

"We didn't know anything," Ryan sighed. "If Dad knew, he never said a word."

"And your brother?"

"Ethan was too young, and then," Ryan rubbed his face, emotion hitting him suddenly. "Then he was gone."

Closing her eyes, Grace watched the memories as they floated through Ryan's mind. "A drunk driver?" she whispered. "Oh my god, Ry, I'm so sorry."

Looking away, Ryan rubbed his face and shook his head. "Yeah, that was the beginning of the end."

Grace glanced at me and stared at me a little longer than she needed to. I could tell, just from that look, that Ryan's brother didn't die by a drunk driver. Something a little more sinister was at work; from the sound of it, Ryan's brother Ethan had taken up the family business. Grace shot me a look that confirmed my suspicions.

I could see the shimmer of Grace's wings as she reinforced her shields again. It was a reassuring sight.

"Bottom line," Serra's voice broke my revere, "what do you have to do with this whole set up? We know that you're not gonna try and kill her, because let's face it, she'd turn you to ash before you pulled the trigger." Serra put her hands on her hips and stared at Ryan. "Why are you here? How did you find us?"

"Turn me to ash?" Ryan asked, furrowing his brow. "How?"

"Nephilim," Grace answered, gesturing to herself and sounding irritated. "We'll get back to that in a minute. Answer her."

Running a hand through his dark hair, Ryan rubbed his face with both of his hands. He looked spent and I couldn't really blame the guy. "There was a pull that I couldn't explain. I got into my car and just started driving. I was just as surprised as you when I drove up and saw you standing there on the porch." He sighed. "I really shouldn't be that surprised, though. I thought about you the other day."

"I remember," Grace murmured, narrowing her eyes and searching his face. "You had a vision."

"I think I need to sit down," Ryan muttered, glancing behind him at the bench near the dining room table. "I don't know. I don't know if I'd call it a vision. It was a glimpse."

"After you touched the Stone," Serra nodded. "I did the same thing the other day." Serra turned towards me and Grace, explaining herself. "I wanted to pour the other day, so I went down the to panic room to get set up, and as soon as I touched my Stone, I saw Grace's face."

"Why?" I asked, unfolding my arms and moving towards Grace.

Grace took an audible breath, her face smoothing out as she did so. "What if that's how they're getting their spell to spread. What if somehow the Stones are the connection?" She glanced at me, shrugging, "We know the guy was a Warrior." Her hand reached up to touch the one of the still-tender scars on her chest, near her sternum. "Maybe that's how it's spreading."

"How though?" Serra asked. "It's not like my Stone has been out of my sight."

I nodded slowly, agreeing with both sisters. "I don't know, but it does sound like Grace is the common goal, here. Maybe weaker minds are more easily swayed. Ryan here can think on his own, so maybe getting him to kill Grace isn't as easy." I gestured to Serra, "And unless they lobotomize you, I'm gonna say that Grace is safe." Serra pursed her lips, agreeing.

"Well," Grace sighed, rubbing her eyes. "We haven't found out anything we don't already know. I'm still the target, but we don't really know why."

We all collectively shrugged, at a loss.

"Good times," Grace murmured.

…

Grace

I sat down next to Ryan on the front porch, tapping into his thoughts. He was tortured; going through too many thoughts and feelings to feel in control. I reached over to his arm and touched him gently, causing him to startle. "Sorry," I whispered, smiling. "I thought I'd try and calm you down."

"Do you have that ability?"

Pressing my lips together, I nodded slowly. "It comes with the territory. A Nephilim is half-human and half-angel," I explained gently. "It's what I am."

Ryan knitted his eyebrows together, completely disbelieving. I inspected his face as he stared at me, trying to put together all the pieces of my story. His eyes were lighter blue than I remembered, but the sunlight was hitting his face just right. The shadow of scruff on his jaw was long enough to see the hints of auburn in his beard. Ryan Strauss was just as handsome as the eighteen-year-old-me remembered.

"You're half-human and half-angel," he repeated, doubt weaving its way into his voice. "What does that even mean? Angels exist too, huh?"

I nodded gently. "It's all true. Everything I showed you. Monsters, demons, angels…" I smiled and lifted my eyebrows. "Warriors of Heaven."

"So, the psychic thing was just an act, back when we were together?"

I leaned into the rocker and sighed with a smile on my face, "Being a psychic was all I thought I was. My abilities hadn't matured. Dean pushed me all the way."

Ryan flicked his eyes to mine. "How?"

"It's a long story."

Looking back out onto the field of our front yard, Ryan sighed and nodded. "You've got yourself a nice little set up here," he said quietly. "Husband, kids, house, some property…" he pressed his lips together. "I'm glad you're happy, Grace."

I gauged his reaction, trying to figure out the emotions behind his eyes. "Are you happy, Ry?" I asked.

"I'm alone," he answered, staring at his hands.

"That's not answering my question."

Ryan sighed heavily and stood, walking to the edge of the porch and leaned on the rail as he turned to face me. "Not all the time," he finally answered. "But I get by."

I stared at my ex-boyfriend and lifted an eyebrow as I considered him. Ryan was lying to me. He was incredibly lonely and had too many regrets to begin to list, one of them being leaving me. He was envious of Dean and the life we had created together. I allowed myself to picture my life if Ryan had been who I chose to spend my days with, and I had to admit, it wasn't an awful snapshot. A lot less supernatural, a bit more domestication.

Shaking my head, I pushed the thoughts from my mind.

Ryan jumped as the screen door slammed but I didn't need to turn to know it was Dean's boots echoing on the front porch. The men eyed each other for less than three seconds, but it was long enough to know that Dean knew that Ryan regretted letting me go. I reached for his hand, but my husband stepped to my side, possessively wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"Down, boy," I whispered, grinning up at my husband. "Ryan and I are catching up."

Dean sighed through his nose and nodded slowly, "A lot to process, huh?"

Ryan puffed out his cheeks, blowing air out the tiny hole he made with his lips.

"The kids are asleep," Dean continued, still staring at Ryan. "I want to go out to the barn and test Serra's theory about the link between the Stones."

I nodded, glancing back at the Warrior of Heaven standing on my porch that wasn't my sister. The concept was completely foreign to me—who knew what it meant. "Yeah, alright," I whispered. I turned to Ryan once more, "Did you bring your Stone?"

"The shiny rock I got from my mom?"

I could feel the lines on my face smooth out as I realized what Ryan had said. "Of course, she was a Warrior of Heaven," I stated sarcastically. "She was probably also a hunter, but what made her a hunter was that she was chosen as a Warrior. I would kill to know if she knew my parents."

"Why would Ryan's mom know your parents?"

"Because I'm convinced my mother was a Warrior too. Now she's a Watcher in Heaven. There's a connection."

Dean stared down at me, furrowing his eyebrows as he considered my words. "If Evangeline was a Warrior," he began, "then where's her Stone?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Serra

I stared at Sammy and licked my lips. The idea of tapping into my Stone's 'thought process,' as Grace called it, made me a little jumpy. My Stone couldn't think. It was the spell that may or may not have been attached to it that was giving the illusion.

Watching me carefully, Sam moved closer protectively. "How are you going about this?" he asked quietly. "I mean, this isn't exactly in your wheelhouse, Sere."

"Hey now," I argued, "there's been plenty of times that I've been psychically linked to things."

"You are psychically linked to Grace. That's it."

Rolling my eyes, I glanced at my sister. "I'll bet if I take a hit of Sam's blood, it would amp up my abilities," I ventured. "Whaddya think?"

Grace shrugged. "I don't know," she shook her head and closed her eyes, listening carefully.

Castiel watched her as she did so, his eyebrows creased in concern. I watched the angel as he watched my sister and asked, "What, Cas? What does she hear?"

Without looking towards me, Cas shook his head. "I don't know what she's listening to," he grumbled. "Since the battle against Delilah, I hear and see very little of what Grace does."

Dean looked concerned. "Why?" he asked.

Finally, Castiel turned to stare at us with his icy blue gaze, "Because she is much more powerful that I could ever hope to be."

"You guys can stop talking about me like I'm not standing right here in front of you," Grace muttered, still standing with her eyes closed. "Go ahead, Luck," she continued. "Talk to your Stone."

I couldn't help chuckling as I reached for my Weapons Stone. I felt so ridiculous. It looked the same as it did the first day I saw it; metallic and full of shine from the fluorescent lights that hung above us. The Enochian etched on the bottom of the Stone glowed slightly blue when I made contact, closing my eyes and feeling stupid. "What am I supposed to say?"

Grace sighed haughtily and opened her eyes. "I don't know, Serra. Just open your mind and listen for a change."

Refocusing, I shook my head and rested my hand on my Stone again. I let out the breath I held slowly, doing what I could to quiet my mind and ignore the five other people standing around me, just watching.

_Hi, Stone,_ I felt myself think. _You got any secrets you'd like to share with the class?_

I half expected it to reply, but when nothing happened, I almost opened my eyes, demanding Grace take over and do something instead. But then, before I had a chance to pull my hand away, I could _feel_ the string of thoughts and feelings surge into my mind.

Images of Grace floated through my brain, all with different degrees of injury. In some, she had blood seeping from her hairline, in others, she had a black eye and a busted lip. I shook my head, furrowing my eyebrows and watched, disbelieving. These images weren't real. Someone had fabricated the memories and was using them to push through my subconscious. I was able to watch without emotion because I knew my sister would never actually sport any of those injuries; her ability to heal would have repaired them before they had a chance to show.

_She cannot be allowed to live_, a voice seeped into my subconscious. _She is what holds us away from our final goal. _

I was intrigued, and somewhere in my mind's eye, I recognized the voice. I decided to play along, just to see where this conversation went, _And what is our final goal?_

_The same as it has ever been._

_You're going to have to be a bit more specific._

_With the Gates uncontrolled, we have free reign over Heaven and Earth, as well as everything in between. We can take Him, and then finally, we will have ultimate control._

I clicked my tongue. _It's been attempted,_ I sighed, shaking my head. _Getting a little dull. You got a new plan? 'Cause the others that tried didn't get very far. _

_Oh yes, _the voice answered. _It's where all of you Warriors come in._

Gasping, I let go of my Stone and backed away, shaking the images it had sent me from my mind. I stared up at my sister and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down; reminding myself they weren't real. The last few images had all been of me, holding my guns and in fight mode in front of a couple of people I didn't recognize, taking on Dean and Sam with a vengeance. I watched in horror as I shot Dean in the chest and aimed at my husband with my other gun. From the ground, I watched as Grace attempted to shield Sam, but I fired too quickly.

I had killed my husband.

"They're not real," Grace whispered, standing in front of me, lowering her gaze to my level and speaking quietly, only to me. "Whoever is controlling the Stone is sending you those."

"What did she see?" Dean's voice echoed through the barn, deep with concern.

Grace shook him off and held eye contact with me. "Serendipity," Grace whispered, "we both know you're stronger than that."

My eyes flicked up to my sister's pale blue gaze, "Am I?"

…

Serra

The rest of the evening hadn't gotten much better. Ryan attempted listening to his Stone as well and was met by the same type of haunting images. Eventually, I convinced Grace that we were fine, and she went off with Dean to clean up dinner and go to bed. Sam had turned in early, needing the sleep so he could get to an early class the next morning. I was left with Ryan in the basement of our little house, far away from my sister's reassuring presence, walking through theory after theory and trying to get to know Ryan better.

"Can you really do all that?" Ryan's voice broke my concentration as I finished pouring another set of bullets into the custom silicone molds I had created with Dean. "Shoot like that, I mean?"

I nodded without looking up. "That night that you left Grace? The night with the demons?"

"It's a hard night to forget."

Sighing out my nose, I nodded, "I shot Grace that night. Not directly, mind you," I continued, wrapping my Stone in its protective cloth and laying it gently back in its footlocker. "It was a ricochet, but it was enough that it scared me. I got obsessed with shooting accurately and made myself into this…I don't know…target whore."

Ryan chuckled. "A trick shooter, huh?"

"Much more than that," I replied, turning and tossing my fused stack of six bullets towards him. Ryan caught it awkwardly and inspected it, his mouth dropping open slightly. "Yeah, it's six fused bullets. I stacked the lead."

"You can do this on command?"

Pursing my lips, I shrugged. "Yeah, but that's not the point. The point was protecting my sister. She's so much more important than she thinks she is."

"The Nephilim thing," Ryan commented. "I'm still not all that sure of what it even means."

I shut the footlocker and turned towards my sister's ex-boyfriend. "None of us really know what it _means,"_ I began. "She's half and half. She's got some insane abilities and she's more powerful than any other creature we've ever come up against, but I still feel like it's not the end of her story. She's special and I wish I knew why, because she's pretty irritating." Ryan watched as I meandered towards him, sitting on the milkcrate in front of him. "I've tossed a lot of theories around, but none of them really end up panning out. Right now, the working theory is that because she gave birth to the Gatekeepers, she can control them, but I don't feel like that's the end of it."

"You think she's got a more important title?" Ryan took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

I shrugged, "The amount of times we've been in this position are a little ridiculous. Someone is _always_ trying to kill her, and it can't just be about the Gates. If it was," I leaned back and finished the beer I had been nursing for the past hour or so, "then why not kill the kids? You can't have Gates without Gatekeepers. They'd be there for the taking, right?"

"Sound theory."

Tossing the empty beer bottle into the trash behind me, I turned back to Ryan and rubbed my face. "Dean will barely discuss it because he doesn't like the idea of monsters trying to kill his kids."

Ryan shook his head with a smile on his face, "The man's got a point." There was about thirty seconds of silence as I rubbed my eyes, but I heard Ryan take a sudden breath. "I get the feeling that he doesn't like me a whole lot."

I looked up at him without moving my head; not bothering to hold in the wry grin that tugged at the corners of my lips. "Well," I chuckled, "you've fucked his wife. Of course he doesn't. Hope you're not a deep sleeper."

"Are you serious?"

"Dean's killed for less." I laughed at the look on Ryan's face and shook my head. "You'll be fine," I sighed. "Grace likes you so Dean will deal."

Ryan had been watching me carefully, trying to decide if I was telling the truth, but suddenly, his attention strayed to something behind me. I watched as his blue eyes widened and began to reflect a glow. Whipping around to see what Ryan was staring at, I stood and watched as well as Ryan's Weapons Stone began to glow on its own, without being touched.

"Are you seeing this?" I asked, walking towards the rock with my eyes wide.

Nodding, Ryan stood as well. "Yeah," he breathed. "You?"

"Yup," I agreed. "Can you hear it?"

Ryan didn't answer me, forcing me to glance his way as he took two smalls steps towards the Stone. He seemed mesmerized, staring stupidly at it and reached out to touch it once he got close enough. I hesitated, wondering how it could be producing the light on its own, but was more worried about the voices I could hear, seemingly emanating from it. No rock was gonna boss me around.

Bending to pick up his Stone, Ryan wrapped it with the velvet that he had wrapped around it before, turned, and walked up the basement steps without looking back.

Licking my lips, I was met with a huge, demanding, and immediate decision. I could hear the voices that I knew Ryan could hear, and I knew they were commanding us to pack up what we needed and join the other Warriors in a designated location, but the smaller, more logical part of my brain put up a helluva fight. I still had my wits about me and there was nothing in my head that told me that I would lose control, but I also knew that I couldn't lose Ryan to whomever was calling out to us. If I lost track of Ryan, we'd lose the possibility of us finding out who was behind it all.

Tossing everything I could reach into a backpack, I dumped a load of freshly poured Weapons Stone bullets, my guns, my Stone, and a pack of banana chips in the sack, and ran up the basement steps, intent on following Ryan. I could hear his Accord start from out on the driveway and I knew I was running out of time. I ditched the idea of leaving a note for Grace or Sammy because I didn't want to lose Ryan in the dark. I was psychically linked to my sister. Keeping her in the loop wouldn't be a problem.

Slinging the backpack onto my back, I turned and jogged after Ryan, locking the door behind me.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Grace

"Whose headlights are those?" Dean asked through the foam of his toothpaste as I got dressed after my shower.

I turned, staring out of our bedroom window that faced the open field between the houses on our property. "I don't know," I replied, shrugging. "They're not Serra's truck or the El Camino."

"Ryan drove that Honda," Dean offered. "But where is he going?"

Moving closer to the window, I watched as my sister's truck's headlights turned on as well, following Ryan's Honda down the driveway of her side of the property and out onto the highway. "Serra's with him," I muttered. "Where is _she_ going?"

Dean waited as I extended my senses, trying to hear my sister's thought process. "Well?" he asked, staring at me and wiping the drips of water from his chin.

"I can't hear her," I whispered. I turned towards the nightstand next to our bed and picked up my phone, holding it to my ear. "Her phone just keeps ringing," I shook my head after listening to Serra's voicemail greeting. "Why can't I hear her? And why wouldn't she tell us where she's going?"

"This doesn't smell right," Dean licked his lips and glanced back out the window. "Should I go after her?"

"She'll call," I argued, shaking my head. "She's not stupid. She'll call us and fill us in."

Dean couldn't help but turn back towards the window once more. "Sam went to bed, right?" he asked.

"That's what he said he was gonna do."

Picking up his phone and dialing his brother's number, Dean waited patiently until Sam picked up the phone. Finally on the fourth ring, he did.

"What, Dean?" his voice was irritated and groggy.

"Where is your wife going?"

The hesitation from Sam's end of the phone told me that he didn't know that Serra went anywhere. "What?" he asked again. "What are you talking about?"

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head at me, "Sam, Serra just took off in her truck, following Ryan as if they had a romantic rendezvous. She didn't tell you she was going anywhere?"

"No!" Sam was up now, probably heading downstairs at his house, looking for evidence. "Can't Grace just ask her what's going on?"

I took a deep breath and sighed, shaking my head. "No, Sammy," I answered, almost whining. Dean held the phone out on speaker so I could speak directly to him. "I can't hear her or Ryan at all. There's something blocking me from both of them. She's not answering her phone either."

Sam sounded out of breath as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "That's because her phone is still on the counter."

…

Grace

I stared at Serra's phone, sitting on the counter of the kitchen in the Little House. This was too familiar to me; looking too much like when Dean abandoned us for Ouriel and the spell he put on Dean's Mark of Cain and when Crowley had taken Serra as a meat suit, all those years ago. I had tried to call out to her at least a dozen other times, using our ability to speak telepathically and beg for her to answer, but there had been nothing.

"It's obvious she and Ryan were in the basement, pouring bullets," Sammy was saying, but I was barely paying attention.

My thoughts moved a thousand miles an hour, searching for a way to contact my sister and bring her home. I couldn't fathom why she would take off, especially without telling us why or where first. I knew Serra acted on instinct and impulse when she was in hunt mode, so that meant there had to be a good reason, but I couldn't think of one.

"She could have been forced to leave," Dean provided, lifting his eyebrows at me, answering the thoughts he knew I was thinking. "Maybe someone came to the house and threatened her or the kids."

I shook my head. "And managed to block me from her all at the same time?"

"Delilah could throw some heavy duty spells around," Dean argued. "She managed to take your grace without much effort, without us even noticing." He shrugged at me, trying his best to be helpful. "My money's on another spell, or something similar."

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "She mentioned something about the other Warrior, Daniel, following you both and what you did for a really long time, and then he hunted you like a switch had been flipped. What if she's got a switch too?"

"What," I narrowed my eyes, "like a circuit breaker popped in her head? That she spends her whole life obsessively protecting me and then suddenly she's out to kill me?"

Sam shrugged.

"I can't see it happening," I said simply. "Serra is hardwired. She is programmed to protect this family, almost to the point of her being annoying about it. She carries that damn bullet around with her in her pocket to prove a point. There is no way, on this great, green earth, that Serendipity would ever try to kill me."

Dean and Sam both took matching breaths and released them, holding their tongues.

"You think she's gonna suddenly try and kill me," I stated, staring at both of the brothers. They looked too much alike for my taste at the moment.

Shrugging, Dean answered, "I dunno, babe," he looked awkward, like he was delivering bad news. "I feel like even Serra can be bought."

"Bought?"

"Turned, whatever," Dean continued. "She's stubborn, yeah, but spells are too. And demons taking over their meat suits? They tend to make their hosts do some pretty awful shit."

I rubbed my face with both of my hands and shook my head. "No," I argued, "Serra is stronger than that. She almost threw Crowley out herself. You're not giving her enough credit."

Pressing his lips together, Dean nodded, "I hope so."

…

Serra

I followed Ryan for what seemed like hours and I was only a little freaked out that I couldn't hear Grace. When I realized I didn't have my phone with me, I started to panic.

I had two choices: keep following Ryan and find out who was spearheading this whole 'let's kill Grace' endeavor or turn tail and head back to the ranch without actually finding anything out. As long as I had gas, I was going to keep on him.

Glancing down at my gas gauge, I pressed my lips together. "Of course, he has to be driving a Honda," I muttered, shaking my head. I had maybe another twenty minutes of driving time in my old Chevy truck, and that was if we were coasting downhill. I hoped we would get where we were going sooner rather than later, especially so I could find a phone and call my family.

The images and feelings I received from the Stone were only mildly upsetting. I knew that I was still in full control, so I didn't bother concerning myself with the fuzzy images of my sister, bloody and broken on the ground, begging for mercy. It just didn't seem possible to me that anyone, let alone a human, could get my Nephilim, half-angel sister on the ground, so I did my best to ignore it.

Ryan, on the other hand, seemed to be tapped into some kind of homing beacon. He drove hard, heading northeast in the most obsessive way, doing about one hundred, sixty miles in a little over two hours. My truck just wasn't made for this kind of punishment.

I looked down at the gas gauge once more and shook my head again, "Come on, Ry, help a girl out here," I sighed. "Stop for gas. Or food. Or something."

It was almost as if he heard me, because for the first time in over an hour, Ryan let his foot off the gas pedal. We were finally slowing down as we came to the outskirts of another town.

"Finally," I breathed. "Columbia, Missouri," I read, squinting as we crossed into the town limits. "Hope you have a pay phone, Columbia."

We pulled off the highway and I slowed so that my truck lurked in the shadows, hiding way behind Ryan as he pulled into the gas station. Scanning for a phone or someway to call Grace, I shook my head. I had no idea how long Ryan would be here and I had no idea if he was coherent. I decided my best option was to approach him as if I was on his side; locked into the Stone and what it had to say. It also meant the possibility of leaving my truck in this tiny little town, but if I couldn't find a phone, at least Sam, Grace, and Dean would be able to start following the bread trail I left.

I rolled to a stop and put my truck into park, locking it as I put my keys into the backpack, then took a deep breath, taking on the glazed look that Ryan had before he up and abandoned ship.

I hesitated, watching his movements, looking for any sign that he was back to normal, but he moved awkwardly, standing too upright and not blinking often enough. Taking a deep breath and mentally crossing myself for good luck, I adjusted my posture and moved towards Ryan as if I belonged there.

"Are you ready to keep going?" he asked, as I approached, as if I had been travelling with him the entire time. "We need to get there faster or we'll miss his deadline."

"Yeah," I muttered, almost losing my cool. "Yes, I'm ready if you're ready."

Ryan seemed to accept my answer and put the nozzle back onto the pump. "I will use the facilities and then we will get back on the road. We have only hours to make the rendezvous."

"Yes," I nodded. "Me too."

Finding my window of opportunity to use the phone, I followed Ryan towards the restrooms that were located on the back side of the gas station. This particular station was so tiny, it didn't even have a mini mart, just a long, ugly, middle-aged man sitting on a stool in a tiny booth, taking cash when it was necessary. I passed him and glanced his direction, but he was staring at the fold-open poster of a nudie magazine. Making a face, I pressed on, knowing that he wouldn't ever let me use the phone inside the booth, so I'd have to hope there was a payphone near the restrooms.

Ryan didn't bother looking back at me, so I slowed my progress as I caught a glimpse of the single payphone under the streetlight, across the way from the restrooms. Jogging to the phone, I picked it up, listening for the dial tone, but the line was dead.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I whispered, hanging it up and trying again. There was no dial tone whatsoever. I followed the cable that lead to the telephone pole behind the payphone, and seeing it was cut, I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying yet again to reach out telepathically to Grace.

Still nothing.

It felt as if there was a mental block, keeping us apart.

"All part of the show," I whispered, heading to the restroom. If I was going to keep up this façade, I would need to pee.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"It's too warm in here," a voice echoed through the open space of the warehouse, his heavy Southern accent finally slipping through his defenses as he tossed in another collection of herbs and ingredients to keep the sisters' spell alive. "Carter, bring me another glass of water."

Wordlessly, Carter disappeared into the small kitchen, at once returning with a pitcher of ice-cold water and a glass. He held out the glass, waiting patiently for Nehemiah to take it, then filled it and backed away from the tall, elegantly dressed man.

Taking a long drink of water, Nehemiah held out the now-empty glass and took a breath. "I thought it was humid in New Orleans," he began, taking off his velveteen top hat and wiping his brow. He had regained control of his accent, sounding much more Midwestern than Southern. "Missouri seems to be a competitor for heat and moisture."

"Yes, sir," Carter agreed. "It's the time of year. Just wait for the mosquitos to show up."

"Well," Nehemiah sighed, replacing his hat onto his head, "I don't care for it."

Nehemiah Clay was a tall, slender man, with a dark complexion, and deep brown eyes. If it wasn't for the cheap, burgundy, velveteen suit, he would have been attractive, especially now with his well-groomed mustache. Shadows danced behind him, though there was little light being cast. "What do you say, boys?" he muttered, almost to himself. "Shall we go and greet our new guest?"

The shadows swam about behind him, surrounding Nehemiah as he walked through the empty warehouse. "Yes, I agree," he continued as Carter joined him. "Let's go say hello."

…

Grace

"Jody already put an APB out on Serra's truck," Dean sighed, tossing his phone onto the counter in Sam's kitchen. "Nothing yet, but she'll keep us posted."

I nodded, but didn't reply, still extending my senses as far as they would reach, searching for any hint of my sister. "I'm getting a lot of chatter," I whispered, keeping my voice down for Sammy's sake. "I haven't sorted through all of it yet, but it sounds demonic."

"Well," Dean answered, "at least then we would have an idea about where we were going or who we were up against."

Closing my eyes, Cas approached and with my invitation, did the same, tapping into my thoughts and following my lead. When I allowed it, Castiel and I interacted seamlessly these days, often completely silent with each other, only communicating aloud when we really wanted to, or wanted to be heard by the others in our family. It was just easier that way.

"Heat," I said suddenly, "it's too hot. Too humid."

Sam turned to my abrupt exclamation. "What?"

"It's hot," I repeated, opening my eyes. "And that voice. He's familiar and I can't place why or who it might be."

Cas was nodding, still with his eyes closed. "You do recognize it," he provided. "From your past."

Dean was practically falling over, listening to us with such intensity that he almost tripped as he moved back to the counter. "We're dealing with someone you know?" he asked, tilting his head. "That makes this a little easier."

"Not necessarily," I muttered, shaking my head. "I can hear the chatter, but I only get snippets." I opened my eyes and rolled my head from side to side, "None of this is going to help, considering I'm being blocked from Serra."

…

Serra

I watched carefully as Ryan seemed to know where he was going. I did everything I could to be as still as Ryan, but it just wasn't in my nature to be that compliant. We had driven for a few more hours, ending up crossing the state line and travelling across the entire state of Missouri. Finally, we had arrived in St. Louis and it seemed like it was where Ryan wanted to go.

Chancing a glance at my new partner, I took a deep, slow breath into my nose. He watched the street signs as they passed and finally decided to exit the freeway, heading into a seedy part of town, full of train tracks and vagrants. I steadied myself, thinking that we had finally arrived at our destination.

"He wants us to come inside," Ryan stated emotionlessly. "They are waiting for us to arrive to proceed."

Nodding slowly, I grabbed the backpack that held my Weapons Stone, my guns, and a few boxes of Stone ammunition for my forty-fives. I could feel them before I saw them: dozens of black shadows darting back and forth in the sky above us. My skin prickled, realizing that we were about to meet the monster of the week, who obviously had control over the demons that circled us. I was hoping it was someone I could kill sooner, rather than later.

The wide warehouse door opened, bathing us in a warm glow and I fell into step behind Ryan as he continued into the open doorway. The demons stayed outside, almost as if they were guarding the warehouse from intruders.

"Welcome to Missouri," a semi-familiar voice echoed through the giant expanse. He seemed to be fighting an accent. "I hope your drive was a temperature cooler than it is here."

Moving only my eyes, I lifted my gaze and side stepped Ryan enough to see who stood in front of him. If I'd had my guns in my hands, I would have killed him right then and there. It took everything in my body to stay rooted to the spot and simply focus on breathing through my nose through my rage.

I knew I'd have to kill Seeder someday.

There he was, dressed in his ugly burgundy, velveteen suit, complete with his dingy top hat. Seeder smiled wickedly at me, seeing my face for the first time, but still was under the impression that he had me under control from one of his spells.

"Well, hello there, Serendipity Browning," he hissed. "Welcome to my temporary home."

I fought my impulses and instead adopted a glazed, obedient look, and said nothing.

"As you can see," Seeder continued, "I've got a new game and a new name. You will address me as 'sir' or 'Mr. Nehemiah', am I clear?"

Ryan nodded once. I followed suit.

"We have one goal and one goal only. Unify the Stones and find the highest bidder," Seeder paused and took a breath, spinning his top hat slowly with both of his long-fingered hands. "With Angelique waitin' on y'all, that makes four Stones." Seeder smiled again, showing his large teeth. He was losing his battle with his deep Southern accent, "Four down, three to go."

…

Serra

It was insanely difficult to stay calm in this situation. I had to keep my wits about me so that I could act my ass off, making Seeder believe that I was under his spell and think his name was Nehemiah. My brain ran wild, trying to figure out a way to get past Seeder's barrier and tell Grace everything I had found out, but I couldn't come up with anything on my own.

I suppose this is what comes from following orders all my life. I wasn't so good on the fly.

"Angelique, thank you for joining us," Seeder addressed the police officer as she walked into the room. She was tall and elegant, moving a little like Grace with long steps and an upright posture. She still wore her uniform and had her dark hair pulled back into neat, tiny twists that gathered into a bun at the base of her neck. I watched helplessly as Seeder took the Weapons Stone from her hands and placed it onto the table in front of him, right next to another Stone. I almost dropped my mouth in horror as the two Stones liquefied and joined each other, to make one, bigger Stone.

Already, I was doing everything I could to think of a way to get out of giving my Stone to Seeder without him thinking it was odd, but nothing I came up with panned out. I knew I would have to give up my Stone if I didn't want to attract attention, but being possessive of my Stone was a very gentle way to describe my feelings about it.

It was _my _Stone. It had pledged its loyalty to _me._

As Seeder approached Ryan, he let the velvet drop off his Stone to reveal it to Seeder. Taking it in both of his hands, Seeder again, walked the Stone to the table in the middle of the warehouse and set it down. Once more, the Stones seemed to liquefy and merge, creating a still larger Stone.

When Seeder came back for my Stone, I hesitated a second too long. His dark eyes found mine and he lifted a single eyebrow. "I can see that fight y'all are puttin' up, Serendipity," he whispered only to me. "The spell has you, though. Give in before it gets painful."

Gritting my teeth, I extended my Stone towards him. Smiling, Seeder took it from my hands and added it to the Mega Stone on the table. I could have cried. It was devastating to watch.

_Grace_, I pleaded, _where are you?_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Grace

It had been almost two days since Serra had taken off with Ryan. Sam and Dean were both exhausted, but I didn't feel the same tiredness that humans felt anymore. I continued searching for my sister.

Serra's truck had turned up in Columbia, Missouri, almost out of gas and with no sign of Serra. Jody found her on the security camera footage, but from the look of things, she was still blindly following Ryan to his Honda. They gassed up and were back on the road in less than ten minutes. Jody managed to find the Honda again on a couple of traffic cameras heading out of town, but we lost them when they got back on the freeway.

I sat at our dining room table with my head in my hands as Dean washed his hands at the sink, preparing to go to the shop for a few hours before we had to get the kids from school.

"I don't know what to do next," I whispered, shaking my head. "She's usually better at leaving breadcrumbs, but there's nothing."

Dean rolled his head from side to side as he pulled out a chair next to me. "I know, gorgeous," he sighed, staring at the Midwest map I had in front of me. "Columbia is here," he muttered, pointing. "The only other thing on this road is St. Louis. Maybe that's where they're headed next?"

I shrugged. "Maybe," I agreed, "but there hasn't been anything odd reported in that city. No attacks, no demonic signs…" I leaned my head in my hands again. "It's just a normal city right now."

"Sam is sleeping upstairs," he continued, changing the subject. "He's handling this a lot better than I thought he would."

"I hate to say it, but we're getting used to people disappearing—" I cut off as my phone began to vibrate from beneath the map. Searching for it, I lifted the stack of papers under the map as well and saw the ID flash across my screen. I flicked my gaze to my husband as I saw who it was.

"Alana?" I asked, answering the phone. "What's up?"

Alana Maclean was an OBGYN at our local hospital and had worked with Serra for years. She knew the Winchester's secrets and was very handy when it came to injuries and hospital hush-hush when they needed it.

In a very strained whisper, Alana didn't bother greeting me, "Your sister is here, or at least I think it's Serra."

I almost knocked the chair over as I stood too quickly. "What?" I practically shouted.

"If it's her, she's not scheduled, but she's here, and she's acting real weird."

Putting my phone onto the table and turning the speaker on, I continued, "Is she there in the room with you?" I asked, "She's been missing for two days. It's a long story. See if she'll come to the phone."

Alana paused and I stared at Dean. This could be the break we needed. "Claudia says she went upstairs and hasn't talked to anyone. She's with a guy we've never seen."

"Ryan," I muttered, shaking my head. "What's upstairs?"

"The lab," Alana answered, sounding like she was walking down the long, tiled hall towards the elevator. "It's where they run blood work and stem panels."

I stared at Dean, "Is blood stored upstairs?"

"Yeah," Alana answered. "Why?"

"She's getting Sam's blood," I said, more to myself than anyone else. "Alana, I can't explain right now but if she doesn't talk to you, don't engage. Just back off because I don't want you getting hurt. She's not exactly herself right now."

"Okay," Alana breathed. Then, addressing Serra in the hospital, she continued, "Sere? Grace is on the phone. She wants to talk to you."

I was leaning down, barely breathing, and trying my best to hear if my sister answered her. There was a murmur, but I didn't feel like it was Serra's voice.

"Serra?" Alana repeated. "Grace is on the phone."

Dean and I turned to stare at each other as blank air time hung between us. Serra wasn't answering. "Alana," I shook my head. "Back off. It's okay. She's in there somewhere, but the spell won't allow her to answer." I took a deep breath. "She's there to get Sam's blood, I can almost guarantee it."

"Why would she want Sam's blood? And why is it here?"

I closed my eyes and rubbed my face. "It amps her up—Sam's blood is like her steroids. It's another long story, just trust me. Just let her leave."

Alana was silent as I watched through her eyes; Serra and Ryan both turned and exited the room, holding a 'bio-hazard' cooler each of Sammy's blood. Alana sighed into the phone and stepped aside to allow them to pass. At the door, I watched Serra turn and for the slightest moment, it looked like she was going to say something, but then decided against it. With that, they were both gone.

…

Grace

"So she's back in Lawrence," Sammy sighed, rubbing his face. "And getting my blood out of cold storage. So? What does that mean?"

"It means they're getting ready to go to war," Dean growled. "Anyone that would have taken all the Warriors, or put a spell on them, or whatever knows what they can do." He gestured with his phone as he held it in his hand. "They're gonna go all Jedi mind trick on everyone and use Serra as their commander. She's gotta be the most powerful one, especially if they know enough to get Sammy's blood."

"How do they know about that, though?" I asked, turning to face Sam. "It's not like we advertised the fact that she goes all Bruce Banner while high on your blood."

Dean shrugged, "Anyone we fought in Grand Portage is gonna know about Serra's abilities with the blood. They all saw her injecting herself at one point or another." He turned to Sam and shrugged, spreading his hands out, "She went through, what, ten, twelve vials?"

Sam only nodded.

"Jesus, this is getting worse and worse," I commented, turning and pulling the lasagna out of the oven before the timer had a chance to go off. "I don't know how we can get out ahead of them if we don't know the plan."

"We can't," Sam sighed, running his hands through his hair. "We don't know who this guy is, what he wants with the Warriors or the Stones, and we don't know what their endgame is. We're absolutely improvising."

Dean nodded, still holding his phone, "We need to catch a break."

It vibrated in his hand, forcing everyone in the kitchen to freeze. "It's Jody," he breathed. "Jody? What do you know?"

He brought his phone away from his ear and pressed the speaker button, allowing everyone to be able to hear what Jody was about to say. "There's a breaking and entering call in downtown Lawrence," she explained. "It came from Lawrence PD, but the house is vacant. They're sending someone out to take a look."

"And?" Dean asked.

Jody hesitated before continuing, "The address is seventeen-thirty four, Illinois."

Dean, Sam, and I all looked up and stared at each other for a good ten seconds; our mouths hanging open.

"Holy shit," I breathed. "She went home."

…

Serra

It was eerie, being back at the old house, but we had our orders. Find the Stone that was out there somewhere, once belonging to our mother, Evangeline, who, apparently, had been a Warrior of Heaven with a fucking Stone of her own, but no one ever fucking bothered to mention it.

I shook my head, trying to get the bad taste out of my mouth.

Seeder (Mr. Nehemiah, as I had to force myself to call him) told us that he had sources saying that the Stone had already been claimed by me, back when I was too young to remember. It was hidden at our old house and Ryan and I were to retrieve it.

How, I had no idea.

"Listen," Ryan commanded as we walked up the steps together. "Listen and it will call to you."

"Hate to break it to you, Ry," I sighed, letting my guard down a bit. "But I never heard any Stone call me from inside this house."

He stood back and considered me as I picked the lock to the front door. "You have never had to listen for it before. Concentrate."

Rolling my eyes, I let us into the dark living room and a flood of memories came screaming back. I licked my lips and closed the door behind us, glancing at the now-swinging curtain from inside the neighboring house. I could have sworn a face had just been watching us break into my old house. We were made.

"Shit," I whispered, hoping she wouldn't call the cops. Turning back to Ryan, I whispered, "We're probably gonna have company soon. We need to make this fast."

Ryan shrugged. "We will do what we need to."

He turned away from me and I shook my head at him, mockingly repeating his words under my breath. I spun in a slow circle, taking in the house from my childhood and teenage years. Smiling gently, I remembered Grace and Dean lying together on the couch, where it used to be towards the left side of the living room. I remembered how good it felt to finally be with Sam, right there on the kitchen floor. I could still see Grace, heavily pregnant with Lib, standing in the middle of the room, surveying the damage from the angels and their attack on us.

This house held more than just my memories, though. Apparently, it also held a Weapons Stone.

"Okay," I whispered, "think like Mom or Dad. Where would they hide something like that?"

Heading to my father's den, which was more like an over-sized closet, I felt the walls and the floorboards for loose wood, hoping to push a board out of place, but nothing budged. Dad used to sleep in here, curled up in a recliner after doing too much research for a job. I realized with a pang, that Dad didn't even have his own bedroom and I wondered momentarily where he and Emery used to sleep.

The garage was my next stop, moving through the house silently with Ryan on my tail. We had stored plenty of things out here, all needed for our hunts. The beams and walls were all exposed, though, with very little insulation and no place to really hide anything. The floor was solid cement, so unless Dad put it the floor, under the concrete, there was no way there was a Stone out here.

I heard the blip of a police car as they were most likely responding to the nosy neighbor's call. I glanced at Ryan, who was already on the move, but I pulled his shirt and pointed. The rafters were exposed in the garage and it was an easy place to perch and hide in a pinch. He followed my lead as I climbed the walls, heading for the corner behind the door that opened to the living room and stairway. I sat on the beam easily and waited for the police to do their inspection.

"Lawrence PD," a voice called out from behind the front door. I had a little foresight and managed to lock it behind me, giving the cops no reason to come in without probable cause. A flashlight searched the bare windows, hoping for a shadow or some kind of giveaway that we were inside, but unless there was a reason, the cops would be unable to enter legally.

I could hear heavy boot steps as the police took their search around the backside of the house, where the Chevelle used to be, covered with a tarp with raccoon nests in the muffler. I took a deep breath in through my nose as I waited for the police officers to try the gate, which was locked, and to circle around to the front of the house once more.

"I don't know," one officer explained, "lady next door called it in. Says someone was trying to pick the lock of the front door."

"Doesn't look like they managed to get it," the other, female officer answered. "Looks secure to me."

"Copy that," the man chuckled. "I'll call it back in." His voice changed, getting louder and more authoritative. "This is Rollins, back to base?"

"Copy Rollins, report?" the mic on his shoulder replied.

The voices were fading as they walked away, "Burglary call on Illinois is a false alarm. There's no one here. House looks secure."

"Copy that," the woman's voice answered, barely audible because they had walked back towards the street.

I sighed heavily, thankful that the cops had lost interest.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Serra

The cops drove away and slowly, I climbed down out of the rafters. Ryan jumped down next to me and I rubbed my face, returning to my search for the Stone. "Think like Mom," I whispered to myself. "Think like Dad. Where would they have—"

I stopped abruptly and realized that I had seen Dad create a hiding spot when he redid the pantry in the kitchen. There was a false bottom to the cupboard, and he used it to store varying weapons and spell work that he didn't want us stumbling onto when they were dangerous. I walked to the kitchen and opened the pantry doors, and gasped, realizing that it wasn't just a false bottom. There was an entire false back to the cupboard that led into what used to be the master bedroom.

Climbing into the pantry, I tapped on the back of the cupboard and could barely tell where the boards came out of the back. I had to use my pocketknife to loosen the top board, and then finally I got it to come out in my hands. One by one, the one-by-six boards came out of place, in order. I made a nice, neat stack of them against the door frame. Then, I backed out of the pantry and did the same thing to the floor.

There was a space in the back of the pantry big enough for a bed. I took a deep breath, shaking my head. It's the reason my father didn't have a place to sleep that wasn't a couch or a chair. He took a huge chunk of his bedroom and built it into the pantry as a hiding spot.

Climbing back into the pantry, I took out a tiny pocket flashlight and shined it into the tiny room. There, arranged neatly, was all of Dad's hunting equipment that was too dangerous to be out in the open, especially around two young girls. There were plenty of spell books, hex bags, ingredients to countless mixtures; along with plenty of cursed objects, I was sure of it. If it was all still here, long after we had sold the house, it meant Grace hadn't known it was here, either.

It was a gold mine.

"Find the Stone and we will get it back to Mr. Nehemiah," Ryan pleaded. "Already this errand has taken too long."

"Lighten up," I muttered, "let me have a moment. Jeeze." Slowly, I picked through the objects, looking for the telltale lump of a Weapons Stone. Sure enough, there in the corner, draped in black cloth, was my mother's Weapons Stone. I could feel my throat tighten, but I shook it off. Now was not the time to get emotional.

As I bent to reach for the Stone, my ears pricked to the sound of a very familiar engine. Ryan showed no change, so I doubt he heard what I heard, but I smiled, knowing my brother-in-law's Impala was headed our way.

…

Grace

Our old house was dark as we passed it the first time. We didn't want to attract any more attention than Serra and Ryan already had, so we drove around the block and I shook my head at Dean's choice of parking spot.

"In front of the asshole stalker's house? Really?" I laughed.

Dean shrugged. "I'm taking this whole area back," he muttered, gesturing to the street. "Whaddya say, through the backyards?"

I agreed, Sammy in my wake. "What if it's not them?" I asked, lowering my voice as we made our way up the walkway to the house across the street from my old, dead stalker's house. There were people living there, so we kept as quiet as we could, jumping over the back gate, jogging through the grass and hopping the fence between our old house and the stalker's block. A flood of memories washed over me as soon as I landed in the overgrown weeds of the old backyard. I couldn't believe we were back.

"Door's locked," Sam whispered. "Can you get in?"

I nodded and flicked my finger, willing the lock to the sliding glass door to flip open. It did as commanded and I slid the door open painfully slowly. I couldn't immediately hear anything, but we moved carefully into the living room and waited for Serra and Ryan to make their appearance.

"You hear that?"

I glanced at Dean and nodded. There was a rustle coming from the kitchen side of the living room, and a soft thumping sound, but the staircase was in the way. We moved slowly through the pitch-black room and I held my breath as Ryan came around the corner of the counter.

"Oh my god," I whispered, not bothering to hide the wide smile that tugged at the corners of my lips. "Serra?"

Immediately, I regretted my decision to say her name aloud. Without warning or any hesitation, Ryan pulled his gun and fired three times, aiming directly for my chest. Luckily, this time, I came prepared.

The bullets bounced off the shield I had thrown around Dean, Sam, and myself. Immediately, Ryan changed his tactics and grabbed Serra, pulling her by the arm and making a break for the front door, chanting something under his breath. I could feel a tug from the center of my chest, almost holding me in place. I held up my hands and yelled, "Wait!" locking them both where they stood.

Ryan raised his gun once again and fired twice more, forcing Sam and Dean away from me, though I still held my shields. I felt the heat from the bullet that grazed by, pushing itself closer than was comfortable to my face. "Shit," I whispered, still remembering how to control my defenses. Dean had pulled his pearl handled forty-five and was about to return fire, but I called him off. "Don't kill him!" I warned; ducking as another one of Ryan's bullets dusted my shield. "It's a spell! They're under a spell!"

I made the move to step towards my sister, still being held by Ryan as he continued to fire at me, but I was locked to the floor. Looking down at my feet, I shook my head. "Ryan, stop!" I shouted, willing everything to hold still, just for a minute, but with a new spell entering the fray, I couldn't use my abilities the way I was used to. "Dean, he's doing something to hold me."

"You gonna let me shoot him now?" Dean grunted, backing behind the staircase.

"Don't kill him," I repeated, still attempting to use my abilities. "It's not his fault."

Sam stood and held out his hands, trying to get Serra's attention. "Sere?" he called. I whipped my head around in time to see my sister freeze in place. "Serra, it's us. You're stronger than this. Fight it."

Serra stood, breathing deeply. Her shoulder was tight, holding the strap of a bag in place. It was heavy with something we couldn't see, but she guarded it protectively. Very slowly, Serra's hand reached to her back, right above her belt.

"Oh, shit," Dean breathed next to me.

She was reaching for her gun.

I ducked instinctively, but my shield held as Serra turned and fired four times, back to back. The Enochian stamped Weapons Stone bullets fell to the floor at my feet. She took aim at Sammy too, but he had already rolled behind the staircase next to Dean. My husband returned fire, but in the least threateningly way possible; firing at her boots and pushing her back towards the front door.

"Goddammit, Serra!" Dean shouted, as another one of her bullets lodged itself in the doorway. "It's us! Those cops are gonna make their way back any minute now!"

Dean stood from his position and threw me a glance. "No, Dean," I pleaded, knowing that if Serra got a clear shot, she would take it. "Wait."

"Luck," Dean pleaded, watching Serra carefully, "I know you can hear me."

I turned, waiting for Serra to fire. She leveled her arm and took a deep, slow breath. Looking away from my sister, I watched Dean's face as she unloaded another four bullets, headed right for my husband's head.

Dean didn't even flinch, staring right at her. With that, Ryan grabbed Serra and yanked her out of the house, running full tilt for the Honda he drove. Sammy considered running after her but knew he wouldn't have been able to catch her. As soon as Ryan left the room, the lock on my feet and my abilities released and I fell to the ground out of surprise.

Getting to my feet, I jogged to Dean and grabbed him by his shoulders. "Are you okay? Where did she get you?"

Dean's face was frozen in place, but his jade eyes flicked to mine as he lifted a single eyebrow. "She didn't," he whispered.

"What?" I shook my head, glancing at the door frame behind Dean. It was riddled with four bullet holes, neatly arranged around the silhouette of Dean's head. "Serra doesn't miss."

"I know she doesn't."

"No," I continued, not paying attention to Dean's words. "When she wants to hit something, she hits it. She doesn't miss."

Dean shook his head slowly and exhaled as he explained, "Grace, listen. Serra locked eyes with me and fired four times, right around my head. She didn't break eye contact once. She hit what she was aiming for." He glanced at me and smiled, "She's faking it."

"What?" I breathed, shaking my head in disbelief as realization hit me. I turned to stare at the bullet holes. They were very obviously shaped around Dean's head. "Oh my god. We still have Serra."

Sam approached Dean, glancing at the house next door to see if there was any movement. The lights were off and the car was gone from the driveway. With any luck, there was no one home to hear the gunfire. "Do you really think?" he smiled lightly, and for the first time, I saw hope in his eyes. "Why would she do that? Why wouldn't she just say something?"

"She couldn't give up the act around Ryan. Now we know that she's okay," Dean continued, "She's gonna be our inside man."

Sam was elated. "How are we supposed to communicate with her?" he turned in place, looking around. "And what were they looking for?"

I shook my head slowly, trying to wrack my brain for any ideas of what my sister may have come to our old house looking for. "I have no idea," I whispered. "They were in the kitchen."

As one, we walked towards the kitchen to inspect what they had been doing. In the distance, I heard the blip of a police car's siren and I knew we only had a few minutes to get moving again, especially with all the gunshots that had been fired in the last five minutes or so.

"Nothing looks out of place," I muttered, searching my memory. "I can't think of anything."

Dean gestured in the air, "Yeah, okay, but we're kinda under a time crunch right now," he said, "can we get this show on the road?"

"I can't think of anything!" I reiterated. "There's got to be something here."

"Think like your dad. Think like your mom," Sam pleaded, moving towards the back door. "There's gotta be something."

My eyes flashed open, realizing I could simply ask my mother. "You guys go," I muttered. "I'm going to go ask. I'll meet you at home."

"Go ask?" Dean tilted his head. "What?"

"I'll be right back," I grinned. Then I winked and disappeared on the spot.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Dean

Grace winked and disappeared right in front of me with a _whoosh_ of her wings. I still hadn't gotten used to the idea that my wife could just _bamf_ wherever she wanted, but I tried to roll with it as much as I could. I turned on the spot, looking around for any hint of where Serra and Ryan were searching.

"Does this look like a false back?" Sammy's voice broke my concentration. "Look, this board is out of place." He lifted his leg to step into the pantry as I approached. "And there's knife marks in this one, like they were trying to dislodge this one."

Leaning forward, I tried to see the board that Sam was talking about, but I was distracted by the lights that flashed across the living room floor, shining from the street. "Shit," I whispered, shaking my head. "Five-oh is back. We need to get gone."

"Yeah," Sammy muttered, backing out of the open pantry. "Yeah, I'm right behind you."

…

Dean

Reaching across the Impala's bench seat, I unlocked the door as Sam landed clumsily on the street side of the gate. He jogged up to the passenger side of the car and slid into the seat as I started the engine.

"Out of practice, there, Professor?" I chuckled.

"Yeah," Sam huffed, dusting himself off. "It's not like I make a habit of jumping fences nowadays."

I laughed again and shook my head, stopping at the stop sign at the end of the block and looking back to see two police cars in front of our old house. "Man," I whispered. "I'm glad those bullets are soft."

Sam turned and watched three police officers kick down the front door and push their way in, missing us by about three minutes. I took a deep breath and shook my head. We wouldn't be able to go back to search that house in the next few weeks like I had planned. It would be under investigation for the time being, especially with all the bullet holes.

As I turned back to the road, I glanced down and saw a drop of blood on my jeans. Touching my face, I closed my eyes and grumbled under my breath, "Son of a bitch, she did get me."

"What?"

"Serra. She grazed me." I held out my fingers to show the streak of blood from my temple. "I barely noticed until I saw the blood on my pants."

Sam bent to see the small wound on the side of my face. "It's not bad," he opened the glove box and handed me one of the kids' wet wipes. "Hope you didn't drop any blood on the floor. Cops'll find it," he added.

I ripped open the package and cleaned the small wound on my face, glancing in the rearview mirror every once and a while. "I didn't drop any blood," I commented. "It's fine."

Sammy leaned back into the seat and rubbed his face, sighing heavily.

I glanced at my brother and pursed my lips, wondering how to approach this conversation. "She's still with us," I began carefully. "We just have to figure out how to get her back. Right now, just think of it as her running recon."

Smiling lightly, Sam nodded slowly. "I know," he agreed. "And she's going to be fine. She always is." He sighed again. "She has to be."

The streetlight was red, so I let my foot off the accelerator and turned slightly to face Sam. "Serra is one of those people that thrives in chaos. Once she got over the initial pissyness that I'm sure she had, having no control over the situation, she probably started to enjoy herself. I mean," I accelerated again as the light turned green and pointed to my face. "She got to shoot me, so that's a plus."

…

Serra

The wind whipped through the car as Ryan accelerated faster than I think he ever had in his little champagne colored Honda Accord. I retied my hair and couldn't help the smile that crept across my face. I got to shoot at Dean.

It was always fun to see the panic on his face when I raised my gun to him, but when I locked eyes with my brother-in-law this time, I knew that he'd be the one to get what I was trying to tell him. Grace would have never let it happen to herself, throwing shields around everything all the time. Dean was always willing to take a chance on me.

I turned enough to inspect Ryan's face, but he was still locked into whatever spell Seeder had managed to wrap through his brain. I had learned, on my way back to Lawrence, that I could act normally when I was around him, because it didn't seem to affect how he reacted to his primary mission, which seemed to be getting the Stones from as many places, as quickly as possible. We had reached the hospital and old house in record time and was now hauling ass back to the rendezvous point. I had no idea where that was, because the hive mind thing didn't work on me, considering I wasn't exactly part of it.

Looking in the back seat, it was reassuring that the coolers that were being used to transport Sammy's blood were still safe. Ryan hadn't bothered touching them because they weren't part of the mission. It did concern me a bit that now they were out of cold storage and only had about forty-eight hours of life on them unless I could get some more ice on them in a hurry. I needed to be able to fight as hard as I could, and that would only happen with the injectors.

"Ryan," I began, being as stern as I could without offending the spell, "We need to stop at a grocery store or something. I need a bag of ice."

"It's not part of the mission," he answered, not looking away from the road.

I shook my head, rethinking my angle. "Okay," I nodded and pursed my lips. "Then I need to use the bathroom, so you need to stop at a grocery store or something."

"There is a drug store off this exit," he gestured to the Rite-Aid sign above the overpass. "Is this adequate?"

A wry grin tugged at the corners of my lips. Nodding slowly, I agreed, "Oh, that's perfect. Thanks, Ry."

"You are welcome. I will use the facilities as well."

"Good times, buddy."

…

Grace

I appeared at the base of the playground near Heaven's entrance a little haphazardly and had to struggle a bit to stay on my feet. I bent at the waist, supporting myself on my knees. Making these kinds of jumps still made me a little woozy.

Gathering myself, I took a deep breath through my nose and heard the telltale whoosh of wings behind me. "Hey Cas," I greeted, not bothering to turn around. "You been keeping up on what's going on?"

He nodded stiffly as we approached the entrance. "Yes," Cas grunted. "I decided to accompany you into Heaven."

"Why?" I smiled. "Afraid I'm going to embarrass you?"

Furrowing his brows, Cas shook his head slowly, not really understanding. "You are not embarrassing at all, Grace," he explained. "I know you are not as experienced navigating Heaven as an experienced angel would be. I am here to assist."

Waving him off, I chuckled. "Yeah, yeah," I muttered as I approached the guardian at the gate. "You gonna let me up or are we gonna fight about it?"

"Nephilim," the angel greeted. "You are permitted."

"My name is Grace," I murmured, mostly out of reflex.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Dean

We got back to the ranch and climbed the steps to the house, but hesitated on the porch, looking out into the fields. Sam leaned on the rail and hung his head, breathing deeply in his nose.

"Hey," I put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I just hate that she's out there, doing this on her own. I wish we could be helping her."

Nodding, I agreed. "Hey, I get it," I replied. "But like I said, it's not like Serra can't handle this." I could hear the chatter of the kids and Emery coming from inside the house. "Your wife'll get it done, man."

"Get what done, though?"

"That's what Grace is finding out." I turned to grin and wave at Glory as she bounced on the couch, waving to get my attention. "When she gets back, we'll hash out a plan. Until then, go inside, pour yourself a drink and cuddle with your kids." Sam turned to stare at me with his sad puppy dog eyes. "Trust me, it helps."

Liberty wandered out onto the porch with me and tilted her head, not immediately seeing Grace. "Where's Momma?"

"She had an errand to run," I answered, touching my eldest daughter's face. "Looking into what Auntie is doing."

Closing her eyes, Lib reached out with her abilities, probably touching base with Grace before she was satisfied. Nodding to herself, she addressed me, "I practiced a lot with Everett, Glory, and Faith today."

"You did?"

"Yeah," she continued. "I can throw a shield around all four of us if I really concentrate. Emery had me catchin' stuff too."

Sam smiled down at his niece and I patted her shoulder. "That's great, kiddo. I'm glad to hear it." I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "Keep at it, will you? I want to make sure you're doing everything you can to stay safe."

Twirling in place, Libby grinned and danced away, her long, blonde curls swaying behind her.

I stared at my daughter as she made her way back inside and sighed again, "I can't believe we're still doing this," I whispered, shaking my head without pulling my eyes away from her.

"Doing what?" Sam asked, moving closer to me.

Finally, I managed to turn and lean against the rail of the porch, crossing my arms across my chest. "This. The cosmic shit. I dunno, Sammy," I took a deep breath through my nose and stared out onto the dark field. "I know we're the Winchesters and this is what we do, but our kids got pulled into this shit too. I'm gettin' a little tired of it all."

"I was tired in two-thousand six."

"It's not a competition."

Sam pressed his lips together and shook his head. "I know it's not," he muttered. "The point is that we're lifers and if we don't deal with it, who will?"

I didn't need to answer his question. There was no one else. We were the first, last, and only line of defense on this plane and the next. It was almost becoming some sort of sick joke. Sighing heavily, I tilted my head to stare up at the light blue ceiling of the wrap around porch and made a mental note to sand and repaint the eaves before the next storm season or we'd get rot up there. I chuckled to myself, hearing how ridiculous my line of thought was. This was so normal it didn't occur to me to be worried.

We would always have work to do.

…

Grace

"Grace Winchester," Mahalia greeted as I walked purposefully down the brightly lit, stark white halls of Heaven. "What can I do for you?"

I didn't bother smiling. Mahalia had never been one of my favorite angels, but she wasn't an immediate enemy either, so I did my best to be civil. "I'm here to ask my mother a question," I greeted, lifting my eyebrows questioningly. "Where is she?"

Mahalia held her hands together in front of her and sighed. "Evangeline is on assignment and cannot be bothered."

"That's not what I asked," I replied, taking a deep breath and sighing.

"Your mother is unavailable."

Rolling my eyes, I turned away from Mahalia and headed down the hallway, away from the angel, Cas in my wake. "It's okay, Mahalia, I've got it," I called as she scurried after me. "You can go back to whatever you were trying to control before I got here."

"Grace, you need to understand." Mahalia continued, "When Evangeline is on a mission for us, it is completely confidential where she is."

Cas caught my eye and I stopped and listened. "Can you hear her?" I asked, tilting my head and trying to tap into whatever he was hearing. "I can't."

Narrowing his blue eyes, Cas stared at me but shook his head incrementally. "I can't hear her either," he began. "Mahalia, where?"

"You can't hear her?" Mahalia repeated, looking concerned for the first time. "Why?"

I whipped around to the angel, feeling the edge of panic. "What do you mean _why_?" I glanced at Cas and was immediately confused. "Wait, why can't we hear her?"

"Mahalia, you will need to choose your next few words very carefully," Castiel stepped forward, tilting his head curiously. "Where is Evangeline?"

"When a Resident goes on assignment for us, there are the times I cannot hear when they are taken on different planes of existence or when they go to Earth, but Evangeline is still here. She is on assignment to protect something here." Mahalia looked from me to Cas and back again. "You should still be able to hear her. I should still be able to hear her."

I was turning down the long, pure white hallway before Mahalia had a chance to stop me, commanding the angel over my shoulder. "Where?" I shouted as Cas and Mahalia fell into step behind me.

"The Armory," she finally admitted. "She's on assignment in the Armory."

…

Serra

There was an uneasiness settling in my chest as I watched Seeder mill about the warehouse as all of us Warriors ate our evening meal together in silence. He seemed to pace like a caged animal, irritated and confrontational. He barked heavily accented orders at Carter, his right-hand man, and glanced over his shoulder often; paranoid like something was on his tail.

I caught his eye once but played it off like I was staring at something behind him, only ruffling his feathers long enough for him to be wary. He dropped the level of his voice and turned away from me to continue his conversation with Carter. I couldn't help but notice that I was the only one he was suspicious of.

After the Stones had liquefied and created one mass Stone, I was not as attached to it as I had been my own Stone. When Ryan and I had given Seeder the Stone that had once been my mother's, it wasn't as difficult as I assumed it would be to watch Seeder take it from my hands. I seemed to be more and more comfortable with the idea that the two Stones that belonged to me were in the MegaStone. I did a quick tally and realized that Seeder already had five Stones of the known Seven and I sat up a little straighter, proud that I wasn't panicking.

I knew, deep in my soul, that we would still end up on top.

I just wasn't sure how we were going to get there

Taking another bite of the tasteless mashed potatoes, I took a deep breath as I surveyed the room. The other Warriors had settled in for the evening, sitting stiffly on wooden boxes and other pieces of non-furniture. They looked tired but didn't seem interested in sleeping. Seeder hadn't given his permission yet.

Finally, he turned, preparing to address the room. There was still a heaviness in my chest, settling into the place that was usually reserved for times I was worried about my sister. She was safe at home, as far as I knew, so I tried to shake the looming feeling of dread. I had to be on my game.

"It's looking good, so far," Seeder began. "Three living Warriors, right here in my warehouse, finding me all kinds of Stones. There are two more," he continued, letting his deep brown eyes find my gaze. I didn't break contact. "And both of them belong to you."

Part of me wondered how Seeder knew about the Stone that existed in Deerhead. I searched for something to say that wasn't dripping in sass but came up empty and chose to remain silent. It was probably for the best.

"Tomorrow," Seeder lowered his voice as three shadows crept across the floor, headed towards where I sat. I breathed slowly, controlling myself, still feigning the illusion that I was under his control. "Tomorrow, we head to the famed Winchester Ranch to relieve your son of his new Stone."

My fingers twitched, wanting very badly to shoot him.

"And then, my dear," Seeders voice dropped again, inches from my face, "You're going to lead me to the final Stone. You and I both know it's out there. You're gonna be a good little divining rod and lead us right to it."

The shadows that flowed across the cement floor towards me lapped at the toes of my boots and surrounded the stool where I sat. I could feel the chill in the air as the demons wound their way through the air in my lungs and pushed at my defenses, trying to see if my body would let them in.

_No vacancy, assholes,_ I thought, annoyed that something as trivial as a demon would try something as mundane as possession this late in the game. _We're a little past possession, don't you think?_

Seeder chuckled humorlessly as he watched me. "You're still in there a bit too much, aren't you, Serendipity?" he whistled and took another step towards me, touching my chin with his long fingertips. "Fightin' tooth and nail against this little spell of mine." He turned and gestured to the other three Warriors. "Look at them, honey," he drawled on, "look at them bow to my wishes. They know what's best."

"I don't disagree," I ventured, unable to stop my eyebrows from furrowing.

Seeders lips peeled back into a comically wide smile. "See, there you are," he snapped his fingers and the demons wrapped their shadowy tendrils around my arms and legs, suddenly dragging me across the floor." Following us, Seeder was shaking his head. "I knew we'd have trouble with you, Serendipity Browning. You've always been the one that's hard to control."

"I didn't want to disappoint you, Seeder," I grunted.

Wagging a finger at me, Seeder shook his head, "No, no, no," he commanded as the heavy steel door shut behind us. "The name is Nehemiah. Nehemiah Clay."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself," I ventured as I watched ropes tie themselves around my wrists, binding me to a heavy metal chair. As I looked up into Seeders eyes, the tightness in my chest returned, momentarily wondering if Grace was safe. "Can we hurry up and get to it? I'm needed at home."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Dean

I glanced at the clock, annoyed at myself for checking again. Grace was fine. Everything would be fine. We needed to find out what this dude Nehemiah was up to and we'd be able to bring Serra home, and everything would be fine.

"Dean?" Sam's voice broke my chain of thoughts and I turned, lifting my eyebrows and taking a deep breath.

"Everything's fine," I ventured, echoing my own thoughts, just moments before.

Pursing his lips, Sam tilted his head, calling me out on my lie.

"Okay, I don't know if everything's fine," I sighed. "But Grace usually isn't gone this long on one of her jumps and it's making me a little antsy."

"So, what should we do about it?"

I licked my lips and turned to face the disaster that was my living room. There were toys everywhere, dishes on every available flat surface, and half eaten snacks on every plate. Since Serra had taken off, our priorities had shifted to searching and the house showed it. It was a real wonder that we hadn't gotten our kids taken away.

"Dean?" Sam prompted my silence. "Should we be doing anything?"

I shook my head, "Nah," I sighed. "Grace is fine. Everything is fine."

Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest and turned to stare at the clock, "You keep saying that."

…

Grace

Things had changed a lot since the last time I had wandered the halls of Heaven. I had finally accepted my abilities and had essentially brought myself back from the dead. Sam liked referring to it as my "Jesus Complex", and though I hated the moniker, he wasn't wrong.

I could feel Cas and Mahalia still on my six, following me at a distance as I weaved in and out of the halls. Mahalia didn't seem to know where to go, so I took the lead. I knew if I just let myself run; I would end up where I needed to go.

A few other angels had taken interest in my mission and meandered around behind us. I could feel myself slowing down and was attracted to the blank wall to my left. Knowing better than to ignore a feeling, I reached out with both hands and felt the wall. There was something here and I knew it.

I closed my eyes lightly, letting the wall tell me where to go and what to do. It seemed to get warmer to the touch as I let my fingers guide me. From behind me, I could almost see Castiel watching my movements with interest. "There's something here, Cas," I whispered. "The wall is telling me how to get in." Mahalia and Cas exchanged a surprised look and I turned, taking a deep breath. "This is it, isn't it? The Armory?" I touched the wall again. "It's blocked then? Warded?"

Mahalia nodded slowly. "I've never been able to find it unassisted. It's hidden to keep its contents completely safe."

"Then why was Grace able to find it so easily?" Cas asked, his deep, gravelly voice echoing through the hall. "She's not a Warrior."

"No," another voice chimed in. We all turned to see the large angel appear, dressed in a sharp suit and tie, with a dark complexion and muted blue eyes. "She is the Warrior of the Warriors. The Hand. The General." I turned to Cas to gauge his reaction. He didn't recognize this new angel, so automatically, I stepped to his side. "She is the Keeper of the Gates. The Balance and Enforcer."

"That's a lot of adjectives, man," I ventured. "You wanna shed some light? Should I be writing these down?"

"You," he smiled, "are the reason the Armory exists. He wanted to make sure your armies would be ready to be led when the Final Battle for Earth comes about."

"He," I repeated, nodding slowly. "You're referring to God, now?"

"He who said, I Am," the angel repeated the tired Bible verse I knew too well.

"We call him Chuck," I sighed, turning back to the wall. "And if you don't mind, I'm just here to ask my mother a question. Can you come back later to be mysterious?" Laying my hand flat on the wall, I sighed, trying to realize the simplest way inside. I lifted my eyebrows, wondering if asking permission was too easy. Suddenly, the door disappeared, and I almost fell into the now-open room.

"She is not here," the angel turned with his hands behind his back and began to walk away.

I hadn't heard him. I was too busy trying to process what I was seeing.

There were weapons for what looked like miles. The room opened into some kind of warped version of a warehouse, but gilded on all sides, will tall, sloped ceilings that shone like the sun. It took a second for my eyes to adjust, but once they did, I took a couple steps in.

"Mom?" I cautioned. I could still hear the mystery angel's voice in my head: _She's not here._ I still couldn't hear my mother's signature and the worry was flooding my chest, making it hard to breathe. "Mom!" I shouted, knowing that she should be able to hear me, no matter where she was in Heaven.

There was still no answer. I was about to turn back to Cas and ask what to do next, but movement caught my eye. I turned, searching with my senses and jogged to where I had seen the light play across a heavy, metal sword. "Mom?" I asked, turning the corner with Mahalia and Cas in my wake. "You here?"

Stopping abruptly, I forced Castiel to bump into me. There, collapsed on the ground in a graceful heap, was my mother; her deep auburn hair scattered behind her with her eyes closed. "Mom!" I dropped to the floor beside her, touching her and trying to wake her. "Mom, come on," I pleaded. "You're okay."

"Grace," Cas' voice broke.

I ignored him. "Mom," I could feel the ground begin to shake beneath me, but I cared very little as to what was happening. My mother's body was cold, and I struggled against the reality that my mother was dead. "Momma, please," I whispered.

Cas and Mahalia were looking around fearfully, wondering why the ground below them shook. I could see Castiel in my peripheral vision; he had turned to stare at me with fear in his ice blue eyes. I could feel my anger and fear rise, pulsing in my ears. I leaned over my mother's body and began to cry, knowing that the unthinkable had happened. My mom had been killed in Heaven. There was no coming back from this.

"Grace," Cas whispered to me, bending to touch me, "Grace, please get control. I believe you're causing the quaking."

Ignoring him, I could feel the bubble of rage from the pit of my stomach. The same person that was behind Serra taking off had to be the same person who was responsible for our mother's death. The Warrior that tried to kill me…the people that were collecting Stones…these things all had to be connected.

Weapons all around us were beginning to shake, toppling over and falling off wall mounts and stacks. Mahalia backed away from Cas and I, struggling to stand. "Grace," Castiel whispered yet again, reaching to touch my shoulder, "Grace, please, get control."

"Control?" I turned to scream at him. "You wanna talk about control?"

A bright light was beginning to fill the overly large room, reflecting off every shining surface. I could feel myself begin to shake; the tension in my shoulders tingled down into my fingertips as I got to my feet. Castiel backed away from me, holding up his hands. "Grace, think about what you are doing. You are much more powerful than anyone here," his eyes implored mine, "Please don't do anything you will regret."

I stared down at my mother's lifeless form and felt the tears fall from my eyes and onto my cheeks. I wiped them away with an angry swipe and clenched my fists at my sides. "Regret," I repeated, shaking my head. "All I do is regret. Everything I do, everything I touch…it all ends up broken, and no one here has done anything to change it." The light continued to fill the room, forcing Castiel to take a step away from me. I could see other angels gather in the wide doorway of the Armory, attempting to see where the bright light was coming from. "What is Serra going to do when she finds out?" I cried, tears still dripping down my face. "I thought we had time!"

Cas' voice was quiet as he lifted his hand to touch mine, "Grace," he whispered. "Please."

"Don't touch me," I grit my teeth and pulled away from him. "I told you. Everything I love ends up dying eventually. You said from the beginning. I am the Immortal." I glanced around me, seeing the crowd. The light was too bright. "The Hand, The General," I repeated, remembering the other angel and his vague speech. "The Balance and Enforcer. My family has suffered enough. Fuck all of it."

I could feel the instant it happened. I let go of the rage that boiled inside my chest and flung it outward, sending a wave of sound and energy out around me, knocking down everything in its path. Castiel anticipated my movement and dropped to the floor, covering his face with his hands. The other angels surrounding us were not nearly so lucky.

I watched everything happen in slow motion. One by one, my energy blast leveled everything and anything in its path, leaving behind nothing but destruction. Mahalia watched it approach and didn't even have enough time to shield her face. She was blasted apart with the force of my anger. The other angels tried to flee, but were caught in the blast as well, turning away from the light as their vessels and wings made imprints on the floor and walls. I watched emotionlessly; almost satisfied in my destruction.

From the ground, Castiel stared up at me, then turned to see the death that followed my wave. "What did you do?" he breathed, still laying on the floor. "Grace, what have you done?"


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Serra

I could feel the sudden pain and pressure in my chest like a rubber bullet had hit me square in the sternum. It was enough to bring tears to my eyes as I doubled over, struggling to catch my breath. From my place in the heavy chair I was still bound to, I searched for what could be causing that kind of pain.

Seeder was still distracted, setting up his potion for whatever kind of spell he was going to try on me next, so I knew immediately that it wasn't him. My thoughts immediately turned to Grace.

_Grace,_ I reached out in my mind, doing whatever I could to try and talk to my sister. I knew in the pit of my stomach she had to be the origin of my discomfort. _Grace, can you hear me?_

_ Serra?_ My sister's voice echoed in my mind for the first time in almost a week. It was faint, but it was her.

Closing my eyes, I could have cried, I was so happy to hear her. _Grace! _I answered. _Oh my god, I'm in a warehouse! The guy behind everything is Seeder! It's Seeder and he's got three of us here with all the Stones—_immediately, I felt a heavy pressure on my ears, like I had gone deaf. Forcing my eyes open, I squinted towards where Seeder had been standing and realized that he was standing right next to me, muttering under his breath.

His assistant, Carter, was holding open a book with one hand and making a soft humming noise as Seeder whispered his incantation. "What are you doing?" I asked, trying to unplug my ears by yawning widely. "That's a little creepy there, that sound you're making."

Carter didn't reply, but instead took a breath and continued humming. Glancing back at Seeder, I did my best to ignore the chanting and go back to where I could hear Grace. _Grace? Are you there? Can you still hear me?_

Opening his eyes and taking a deep breath after finishing his chant, Seeder tilted his head and smiled wryly at me. "You Browning girls…y'all are persistent, ain't cha?"

Seeder wasn't bothering to try and hide his accent any longer.

I smiled sweetly at him, "There you are, Seeder, old pal. Glad to see that you're not hiding your true colors."

He seemed to consider me, shrugging lightly. "The South has a deep-rooted hold on me, but that you know," he countered. "I only needed to hide my identity while gatherin' all y'all. Now it's just a matter of finding the highest bidder, and you and I both know that's the easy part of this job." Seeder stepped back and considered me, "I always knew there was somethin' about you, Serendipity," he sighed, touching my hair. I pulled my head away from him as far as I could with a look of disgust on my face. "The rumors are true. The Chosen Pair."

"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes. "Man, this is an old story. Can't you get on with whatever so I can go find my sister and we can finally kill you?" I shook my head. "Been sayin' it for years. Knew I'd have to kill you eventually."

"You shoulda when you had the chance," he murmured, leaning to my ear. "It's too late now."

I turned and smiled at him again. "Tell that to my brother-in-law. Told him he'd have to get in line to get a piece of you." It was the first time that fear touched the lines etched in Seeder's face. Suddenly, he looked old and frail. I decided to take it and run, "Oh yeah," I continued, dropping my voice to a whisper. "You pissed off Dean Winchester. One of the two scariest mother fuckers on the planet."

Seeder took a step towards his potion table, turning and trying to hide the fear that crawled across his skin. I continued mirthlessly. "Sam's right there with him, his nose in a book, and a map in his hand, tracking your ass across the country. These two men, paired with my fucking Nephilim sister…they're coming for you." I monologued as Seeder added a crushed, orange powder to his mortar and pestle. "And just think, when they get here," I chuckled under my breath, driving the point home. "When they get here, I'll be back with them." Seeder finally looked up at me; his jaw locked in place. "I got a bullet with your name on it, Seeder."

Doing his best to let my speech roll off him, he smiled widely. "Of course," Seeder agreed.

I nodded. "Go ahead and doubt me."

…

Dean

There was a sudden pain in my chest, pressing into my sternum the way a bad punch lingered. I grimaced and rubbed my palm against the pressure, making Sam look up from his maps and books.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"My chest is killing me," I grumbled.

Sam grinned, "Are you having a heart attack?"

"Oh, ha ha," I shook my head. "Wouldn't that be a way to go." Coughing slightly, I bent at the waist, trying to catch my breath. "Oh man," I grunted.

"Dude," Sam got up from the table and walked over to me, putting a hand on my back and bending with me. "What is it?"

I stumbled a bit, trying to back up towards the couch in case I passed out. "I don't know," I answered, "But it fucking sucks. Like I got hit with a sledge, right to the chest." Even my breathing was affected, and I gasped, trying not to panic.

Just then, the back door slammed open and Liberty came running in, headed straight for me. "Daddy!" she shouted, falling to her knees in front of me. I tried standing, making sure she wasn't going through the same pain I was, but she seemed to be doing the opposite; reaching for my chest and pressing down with her small hands. Immediately, the pain was gone. It was as if Lib had somehow taken it physically out of my body.

"Lib?" I asked, watching her face, waiting for the same pain to hit my daughter. "Are you okay? Did you feel that too?"

She shook her head slowly, taking her hands away from my chest. "No," she whispered. "But I could feel where it was coming from: Momma."

I stood immediately from the couch, staring down at my eldest daughter. "Mom is hurt?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Is she still in Heaven?"

"She's not hurt in her body," Liberty argued, shaking her head. "It's in her mind. Her mind is too loud and too fast to hear."

"Show me," I commanded, sitting down again on the couch in front of Lib.

Without hesitation, Lib put her palm on my arm, feeding me the memories of feelings that she had just gotten from Grace. The thoughts she showed me were chaotic and random, not really having any destination or organization. Grace's voice wove in and out of the dream-like scenes, sounding angry and emotional.

Sam moved closer to both of us and held out his hand, asking Lib to do the same for him. She complied, closing her eyes and feeding her uncle the same scenes she was showing me. Slowly, Glory, Levi, and Everett filed in from the backyard and watched quietly, each of my own kids with their hands on their chest. They could all feel the same pain that Liberty was showing me.

"Something happened up there," I grunted, turning to stare at Sam. "I was feeling her pain."

"We can't just go in there, guns blazing," Sammy answered, running his hands through his hair. "Besides, wasn't this all to find out what's next for Serra?"

"Mom's coming back," Lib replied quietly. "She's coming back soon. Right after she cleans up."

I narrowed my eyes, confused. "Cleans up?" I asked. "Cleans up what?"

"Her mess."

…

Grace

Castiel was watching me with wary eyes as I stepped around the Mahalia's remains, along with what was left of three angels I didn't recognize. I didn't know if it was because I was still so angry, or if something had monumentally and irreversibly shifted in my own heart, but I felt no remorse for what I had done.

Turning to face the rest of the Armory, I took a deep breath in my nose. "Every weapon Heaven has is here?" I asked, to no one in particular.

Cas' voice answered, "Yes."

I nodded without turning. "Except the angel blades everyone carries."

"Yes."

Finally, I pivoted on the toes of my boots to face him, "So, in theory, the Michael Sword is here." Cas simply nodded at me, almost fearful. I ignored the look on his face for now and moved into the open area beyond my mother's body. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and listened, willing the sword to my hands.

Without much effort, there was a clang in front of me, and a long, blue-velvet-wrapped object dropped at my feet. I continued to breathe through my nose, as if this was the most regular thing to happen to me and bent to pick up the sword. I unwrapped it and smiled gently. "Now," I sighed. "We're getting somewhere."

Cas stepped towards me and spoke quietly, not wishing to anger me again. "What are you planning to do, Grace? This," he looked around and took a deep breath, changing tactics. "We are in very real danger."

"Why?" I asked, not bothering to look up. The Michael Sword was exquisite, and it was huge. If it was stood on its hilt, the tip of the blade came to my chin. The engravings were intricate as well; full of geometric designs that wove their way around the base of the dual-sided blade, with Enochian lettering up the center. I felt connected to this weapon, but I knew it was because I was married to its rightful owner.

"Grace," Cas shook his head again. "If more angels come…" He looked up at me, concern etched into the lines on his face. "You just…" he couldn't seem to force himself to say the words.

"Murdered four angels?" I asked. "I know."

"And you're okay with this?"

"I'm not anything about this," I shrugged, finally turning to face the angel that had survived my fury. "What's going to happen? They'll call in reinforcements. I'll take care of that too. Chuck said," I glanced at the weapons again, narrowing down my search parameters. "Chuck said that we were off limits. The Winchesters are safe."

"That may change if you keep killing angels."

I shrugged again. "Let them come." I sauntered towards my fallen mother once more, kneeling next to her body. "I'm sorry we got you involved, Mom," I whispered, touching her face. "And I'm sorry I can't bring you back." Cas waited for me, standing to the side tentatively. I turned to stare at him, setting my jaw. "These are mine now," I stated, mostly to those that I knew were listening. "It's all starting to come together. Serra is the Warrior and I…" I shrugged, gesturing to the room, "I'm starting to get the idea that I've got a place in all this. I want to talk to that other angel that was here. He knew more than he let on."

Cas stayed silent, waiting to see what I would do.

"I'm done, Cas," I muttered. "I'm done being nice. I'm done being patient. I think it's time to be the Nephilim that everyone is afraid of."

…

Grace

Walking through the Armory with my newfound, barely controlled rage, I inspected the countless weapons, displayed on walls, shelves, and mounted in their carrying cases. There had been something here important enough to kill my mother for, though really, Mom could have just been a revenge killing because someone was pissed off at us. I took a deep breath through my nose and turned to face Castiel, who stood still, watching me intently.

If he hadn't dove to the floor, I may have killed him as well.

It was the first time I felt badly about what I had done. In the future, I would need to aim a bit better.

"There's nothing here that stands out to my senses," I murmured, mostly to myself, but Cas continued to watch me carefully. "We need to go home and find Serra first."

Castiel nodded slowly, still very hesitant to move too fast or say anything that would irritate me.

"Cas, I'm not going to kill you," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. "You have to know that."

He lifted his eyebrows doubtfully, "Right now, Grace, I'm not sure what you're capable of."

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Do you want me to fear you?"

I sighed, shaking my head. "Cas, you're family," I tilted my head. "I'm starting to wish you hadn't been here to see it."

He nodded, "Me too."

There was a flutter of wings and I turned to see who was joining us this time. There, standing next to my mother's body, was Lucia, the angel that had taken my mother as a vessel to conceive me. She stared sadly at the corpse on the floor and looked towards me sadly. "Evangeline," she whispered. "I just got word."

"Yeah," I grunted, ignoring the emotion in the back of my throat. "You missed the party."

Lucia seemed to finally pause and take it in the scene before her. I stared at her, willing myself to feel badly for what I did, but again, I felt nothing. The guardian turned, surveying the Armory and with her mouth falling open in shock, she turned, showing more emotion than I had ever seen. "You did this?" she whispered, tucking her long, blonde hair behind her ears.

I nodded, pushing my chin into the air defiantly.

"Grace," she whispered. "Why?"

"Someone here killed my mother," I explained.

Lucia was shaking her head slowly, picking up the edges of her dark green, gauzy dress to step around my victims. "That does not give you the right to murder innocents."

"I was pissed. They were in the way."

Staring at me, Lucia's eyes filled with tears. "That is no excuse," she answered. I fought the trickle of shame down the skin of my neck and into my chest. "You are the most powerful being I have ever met, Grace," she continued. "With that power comes—"

"I swear to all that's holy, if you say 'responsibility', I will cut you," I growled, bending to pick up another, smaller sword from the display at my feet.

Lucia didn't back away. "You would harm the one who helped create you?"

"I don't know what I would do right now," I breathed. "I don't have time for this. I'm going to find my sister." With that, I disappeared on the spot, headed back to my husband to reevaluate what to do next.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Dean

There was a change in the atmosphere and a telltale flutter of wings as Grace appeared again in our kitchen. I turned, grinning at my wife, but the smile fell off my face immediately after seeing the look on her face.

"Grace?" I whispered, approaching her. "What happened?"

She stood, stoic and silent as she stared out the kitchen window.

Sam and I exchanged glances from across the living room, but I refused to be ignored. "Gracie?" I pressed, getting close enough to touch her. As soon as I made contact, Grace dissolved into silent tears, falling to the floor and sitting against the dishwasher. I followed her down, staring up at my brother. "Baby, what happened?"

"I killed them," she whispered, shaking her head. "They killed her, so I killed them."

I sat opposite Grace, holding her hands in both of my own. "You're gonna have to back up a bit," I replied, gently as I could. "Lib came in, telling us about your mess. Is that what she was talking about?"

"My mess," Grace breathed, "that's a gentle way of saying it." She closed her eyes and pulled her hands out of my grip to rub her face. "Someone killed Mom," she continued, gasping. "Mom's dead."

"Dead?" Sam repeated, unable to hold back.

"She was on assignment in the Armory," Grace agreed. "But when I got there, she was already dead."

"How do you kill someone who's already dead?"

Grace flicked her blue eyes to my brother dangerously. "The body you're given in Heaven can still be killed," she spat. "Just like the suit you're wearing."

"Alright, alright," I calmed, holding up one hand, palm out. "Let's just keep it chill, here."

Grace's demeanor changed again, dropping her jaw; irritated. One of her eyebrows arched and I waited before I pressed her.

"I'm so sorry, Grace," I whispered, waiting for her to make eye contact. The air around us buzzed with electricity and I could feel it in the air; my wife and her deadly abilities were on the edge.

Suddenly, Cas and Lucia joined us in the living room, both with their hands up, showing Grace that they were there to help. "What happened up there?" I asked, staring at my friend without greeting him. "Are we any closer to finding Serra?"

"Grace has control of the Armory," Castiel explained. "She murdered four angels, including Mahalia after discovering Evangeline on the floor. Her abilities are fully mature, and she is capable of anything."

"You can stop talking about me as if I'm not here," Grace muttered, getting to her feet. Cas and Lucia both backed away from her. "I get it. I'm scary."

"Scary?" I repeated. "Grace, it was an accident, wasn't it? You lost control, like you do sometimes?"

"No," Lucia stepped forward. "This was a very purposeful display of power."

The two women stared each other down for longer than I was comfortable with. "Hey, hey," I ventured, eyeing Grace carefully. She was as angry as I had ever seen her. I had to admit; it made me a little edgy. "Let's get refocused, here. Serra is still missing. We need to track her down if we're going to get any closer to finding out who's behind the latest and greatest."

Grace and Lucia stared at each other for another thirty seconds or so. Finally, Lucia lifted an eyebrow, mirroring Grace and for the first time I saw how similar the two women were. Grace broke the stare first, deciding to turn and walk towards our bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

I took a deep breath and huffed it out, the knot in my stomach releasing slightly. "Alright, you two get in on Angel Radio. I want every line on Serra. I want a location tonight. Sam, you do what you need to do to help them." I turned and stared at the closed bedroom door, "I'm gonna go try and talk down the nuclear warhead in the bedroom."

"Dean—" Sam began, holding up his hand.

I turned, still walking backwards. "She's not gonna kill me," I muttered. "Maim me a bit, maybe, but we'll call it foreplay and it'll be fine."

…

Dean

Gently pushing the door to our bedroom open, I took a deep breath in through my nose. "Grace?" I padded into the room, watching her as I closed the door behind me. "Gracie, look at me, will you?"

Remaining where she was, Grace stared out the window and into the field between our houses. "Are you going to judge me too?"

"It's not like me to throw judgement around, you know," I whispered. "You did what you feel like you needed to do. Who am I to tell you who not to kill?"

"They were innocent, Dean."

I shrugged. "I've definitely killed my share of innocents, Grace." I stepped closer to my wife, holding out my hands. She watched my reflection in the window as I approached. "This business is messy, and shit happens." I got close enough to touch her but decided to put my hands in my pockets instead, inspecting the faint reflection of her wings in the glass. They were too big to see their entirety, but the golden, opalescent shimmer was an impressive sight on its own. I took a deep breath and took another step towards my wife, now close enough to see my reflection standing behind hers. "You've been through more than your fair share. Four casualties in this amount of time is hardly something to obsess about."

"You sound like you don't care that I killed four angels for no reason."

"You were pissed, Grace. Your mom…" I shrugged. "Your abilities are still on the new side. Sometimes you lose control."

Finally, Grace turned to face me, her face stone. "My abilities aren't new," she commented. "And I was under complete control."

"So, you're telling me you _wanted_ to kill four angels?"

"Maybe I did."

I licked my lips, searching for the words. "Grace, if you're trying to scare me away, I hate to break it to you; you're not gonna win this one. I ain't goin' anywhere. We'll figure it out."

The air buzzed with Grace's abilities and I took a deep breath through my nose, watching the lights flicker in the bathroom. I turned towards my wife and knelt in front of her as she sat on the edge of the bed, her posture showing more guilt now that it was just the two of us.

"Grace," I whispered, getting her to look up at me.

She simply stared; her eyes icy blue.

"I'm sorry your mother is gone," I continued, reaching up to touch her face. "And I'm sorry you didn't get more time with her."

My wife took a deep, shaking breath through her nose. The lights continued to flicker.

"Do you have any theories?" I ventured, trying to get her to focus on something besides her rage. To be honest, she was mirroring Serra just a little too much. Angry Grace was scary.

Shaking her head incrementally, her eyes found mine and the flickering in the bathroom stopped. "It had to be someone already in Heaven," she began; her voice quiet but unwavering. "I killed Mahalia."

Getting up from my kneeling position, I joined my angelic wife on the edge of the bed, keeping both of her hands wrapped in mine. "I'm sorry, baby," I whispered. "I wish I had been there to talk you down."

"I might have killed you too," Grace argued. A tear dripped onto the top of my hand, but I made no effort to wipe it away. "I would have killed Cas if he hadn't dropped to the ground."

Flicking my eyes to my wife's face, I could feel my eyebrows knit together. "I don't believe that," I argued. "You would have stopped."

Sadly, Grace turned to face me, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "I am a monster," she whispered. "Heaven was right to want to hunt me." She freed one of her hands from my grip and wiped her face. "Human emotions with cosmic powers. It's not a good mix."

"Bullshit."

"Dean," she sighed, getting up from the bed. "Lucia said today that I am the most powerful being she's ever met." Grace turned to face me, wringing her hands together. "More powerful than an angel. More powerful than _any other being_," she repeated slowly. "Does that mean I'm more powerful than Chuck?"

"If that's the case," I ventured, "I haven't seen it yet. Maybe try creating an ocean in our back yard."

"I'm being serious, Dean," Grace spat. The lights dimmed in our bedroom and the bathroom began to flicker once more.

I got up from the bed, holding my hands out to Grace in the most non-threatening way I could. "I know you are," I sighed. "I'm trying to get you to realize that you're still you. I don't give a shit how powerful you are or aren't. You're my wife, regardless, so why do you keep trying to push me away?" I took a step towards her, touching her face. "If you're more powerful than Chuck, then we'll figure it out as we go. It'll probably come in handy. But for now, I'd be happy if you could stop bursting lightbulbs and frying our electrical. It's getting expensive."

Grace didn't smile.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Are you afraid of me?" Grace's voice was sharp as she suddenly changed tactics. She titled her head and crossed her arms, listening to the thoughts that I was doing my best to organize. I could feel my mouth open to reply, but it was too late. She had taken my reaction and ran with it. "You and Cas both, huh?" she muttered, shaking her head.

"Grace, stop," I finally took a step forward and narrowed my eyes. "Stop trying to make yourself the bad guy, here." I moved my head from side to side and popped my neck, stalling for time, trying to get the words I needed to say before my Nephilim wife had a chance to react the way she was trying to react. "Am I afraid? Hell yeah, I am. I'm afraid of what you might do to someone that pisses you off. I'm afraid that I'm gonna lose you to the rage." She stared at me, willing me to say that I was afraid of who she was becoming, but that wasn't it at all. "Grace, I'm afraid of _losing_ you. And all of this extra power…these extra abilities; they're just begging for some control." I took a deep breath and gestured to the window. "Someone up there is pushing you to the brink. Killing your mother? That's really fucked up, considering she wasn't even a part of this. Someone who knew you'd react this way and it's the reason she's dead. They're doing their goddamn best to get you to lose control."

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because with you out in the open, killing off anything in your way, it makes it that much easier to get to the shit they want: the Gates, the Stones, your sister, us…whatever." I moved towards her and touched her face again. "Grace, with you running wild, you're not thinking with that big ol' brain of yours. That's when shit goes sideways. That's what they're banking on."

Tears welled in Grace's eyes and she did what she could to not allow them to fall. Staring up at the ceiling, she took a ragged breath and huffed out the breath with her lips pursed. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay."

"Okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," the corner of Grace's lips tugged into a sad smile. "Okay. Let's go get Serra, and then we'll figure out how to handle any of the new problems as we go."

"You know where Serra is?"

Grace wiped her face with both her hands. "Yeah," she sighed, muffled from behind her palms. "She's in St. Louis, Missouri."

"Should I ask how you know that?"

"She's being 'tortured'. I can hear her."

I stopped dead in my tracks, holding up my fingers as air quotes, "Tortured?"

"She's bored. It's fine."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Serra

"Oh, yeah," I turned towards Carter as he strapped down my right arm and rolled my eyes. "Right there. You know, if you pull hard enough, you might get my back to pop."

The bright overhead lights shined off Carter's bald head as he flicked his eyes towards me, annoyed. For the most part, Seeder's little right-hand man seemed to be pretty quiet, never speaking to me directly but now, for the first time, he took a deep breath through his nose and turned towards me, his eyebrow cocked, irritated. "Do you _ever_ shut up?"

"Hey!" I exclaimed, grinning. "You do speak!"

"Close your mouth before I gag you," Carter replied, his voice deep and smooth.

I lifted my eyebrows comically. "Oh, you know what a girl likes," I giggled. "And with a voice like that, you're in the wrong industry. Kidnap and torture aren't allowing you to pursue your true calling." I waggled my eyebrows and continued as Carter belted my other arm to the table. "You've got a voice for radio."

He ignored me this time and I closed my eyes, still smiling internally. The MegaStone was huge now; containing five of the seven Stones and holding no attraction to me whatsoever. I wanted little to do with it now that it was so big, but I had a feeling that I knew who would.

I had heard my sister last night, deep in my subconscious. She had been livid; angrier than I had ever heard her. At first, I wondered if I had only dreamed the scene, but more and more, I knew that Grace's abilities had pushed her voice into my mind, regardless of the defenses that Seeder had set up around us. Grace knew where we were, and she was coming.

And she was pissed.

I had more than a feeling that all her abilities and everything that we had gone through as a family were leading us to the next point in our lives. Grace had given birth to the four Gatekeepers and married Michael's Vessel. I had two more Warriors and was Lucifer's Vessel's wife. What if it was all because Grace was the one that should be in charge? What if we, the Warriors and Vessels, were meant to be her army, and her, our general? I had no idea what war we were supposed to be fighting, but I knew the likelihood of us being players in some Holy War was more likely than not.

Now that Seeder's plot was almost realized, I felt like the spells that he had over Ryan and Angelique were starting to wear off. From across the room, I watched Angelique look as if she regained consciousness, though she had been sitting on a barstool for the last eight hours or so. She blinked a few times and looked around the room slowly, taking in her surroundings. Finally, her dark eyes came to rest on my face, and they widened, seeing me tied to the table. I shook my head incrementally, trying to communicate to stay quiet.

I turned my head the slightest bit, trying to see where Seeder was, on the phone from inside the other room, out of earshot. I knew he was looking for someone to pay big money for the MegaStone, but something told me it was too hot for most of his potential buyers.

Turning back to Angelique, I lifted my eyebrows to a now spell-chanting Carter. She seemed to understand to stay still and quiet, and I was happy to see luck was on my side, remembering that she was a cop. She was trained for this. Ryan was coming to right next to her, but he didn't get my facial expressions quite as easily as Angelique did. He was standing before we had a chance to get him under control, blowing our cover.

Ryan caught Carter's attention, and immediately, he strode over to Ryan and touched his forehead, forcing him to sleep with yet another spell. This whole thing was exhausting. I rolled my eyes and watched as Seeder sauntered back out of the back room.

"Well, well," he sighed happily to Carter. "We have ourselves a potential buyer in the Middle East."

Carter nodded once, acknowledging his boss' excitement.

Ryan was slumped back onto his barstool, but Angelique managed to stay still enough not to attract attention. I took a deep breath and wished I had injected Sammy's blood when I had the chance. I took a deep breath, biding my time, and grinned, staring at Seeder upside down from my place on the table.

"Ooh," I teased, "I'm excited. An outing!"

Seeder glared at Carter. "Why is she still conscious?" he asked, approaching the table slowly. "I am so tired of her constant noise."

"None of the spells work," Carter replied, not lifting his eyes to his boss. "She does not respond to anything I have tried."

Turning to shoot me daggers, Seeder took a deep breath through his nose, but I smiled up at him. "Look, if things aren't working out, you can always just send me home. You've got a couple others to take my place."

"Serendipity," Seeder sighed, putting his threadbare, velveteen top hat on top of his head. "Whether you realize it or not, you are an intricate part of my plan. You'll cave eventually. I'll find a spell that works on you, even if I have to use one of my friends here to enforce it." Holding out his palm, he gestured to the shadows that danced in the corners of the ceiling. "You see, they don't have to hang out here with me. They can go out and make friends with your dearly beloved."

I scowled at him, wondering if he meant what I thought he meant.

"Your babies at home will live their worst nightmares," he continued, leaning close to my face. "They'll be callin' out for you in the dark, but no one'll be able to get to them. Tortured souls for as long as I need them to be."

Narrowing my eyes, I stared coldly at Seeder, still seeing him upside down, since he continued to stand at my head. "I'm going to enjoy killing you, Seeder," I whispered. "I hope you get enough money for that Stone to pay the devil on your way to Hell."

Seeder's full lips peeled away from his large teeth in what eventually became a smile. "You've been threatenin' me with death for longer than I'm willin' to remember, Serendipity," he taunted as he turned away from me. "I'll let you know how your children handle my friends."

…

Grace

I turned, hearing the demons coming before they arrived. "There's something coming," I murmured, narrowing my eyes. "Lots of them."

"Lots of what?" Dean asked, turning towards me, watching my reactions carefully.

I was already on the move, heading to the living room and opening the front door widely with Dean in my wake. Sam and Cas were right behind me, exchanging looks with Dean behind my back. Lucia approached me as well, moving silently behind me.

"What's happening?" Sam's voice was cautious.

Castiel took a deep breath. "Demons are coming," he whispered, turning to Sam. "Hundreds of them."

Dean and Sam turned to the gun safe that was embedded in the dining room floor, next to the sliding glass door, but I took a deep breath, tilting my head idly. "You won't need those," I whispered.

Slowing to a stop, Sam turned back to me. "We won't?" he asked.

"No."

From the horizon, I could already see the hundreds of columns of black smoke curling through the sky. The quiet, angry voice in my head was pleased. Without preamble, I sauntered to the edge of the porch, walked confidently down the steps, and out into the gravel of our driveway. The boys followed in my wake, watching the cloud of demons carefully.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked. "Gracie?"

Ignoring him, I took a deep breath as I approached the edge of our property. The first of the crowd of demons was approaching us and I turned my face skyward, mildly amused. "You're not welcome," I breathed.

At first, it didn't look like I had done anything, but then, in a black liquid waterfall, the demons that attempted to make it past the boundary of our property fell to the ground and burned a hole into the dirt at my feet. I stepped back incrementally, not wanting to get anything on the toes of my boots. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my arm to the sky and as I turned, brushed the air with my fingertips. I knew Dean, Sam, and Cas had been able to see the shimmer of the protective bubble I created over the property. With that, I strode back up the sidewalk, heading back inside.

"I'm getting a sandwich," I muttered as I passed the boys. "And then I'm going to get Serra."

Dean's eyes were wide. "Yeah," he agreed warily. "Yeah, I'm coming."

"Me too," Sammy nodded, jogging to keep up behind me.

From her place on the porch, Lucia watched the demon slaughter with a contented look on her face. "You're not holding back any longer," she murmured to me as I walked by. "I hope you remember when you need to do the opposite."

"I'm done listening to anyone but myself," I answered, my head held high as I walked by the angel that helped create me. "You can come, or you can stay. Either way," I turned to hesitate, standing in the doorway of my house. "Stay out of my way."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Serra

I took a few calming breaths, knowing that Sam and Dean wouldn't let anything happen to our kids if they had anything to do with it. The sigils were up, around the property, and each of the kids were marked with their share of Enochian symbols on their ribcages, making sure that possession was not an option. I wasn't all that worried, just pissed that Seeder thought he could take it to the next level and not think I wouldn't come for retribution.

Seeder and Carter had moved into the other part of the warehouse, huddled together, discussing the purchase of the MegaStone. I tilted my head to attempt to see Angelique again, but she was gone from her barstool. I glanced around the room and gasped when I saw her suddenly appear next to me with a buck knife.

"Jesus," I whispered. "You might move more silently than my sister."

"It's one of my many talents, girl," Angelique answered, cutting my bindings away from my wrists. "Let's get our shit together and get the hell out of here."

"Don't forget Ryan," I replied, nodding towards his slumped figure. "He's a friend."

Nodding, Angelique watched Ryan as he stared off into the darkness. I used the knife to cut the rest of my bindings and stand up from the table. In unison, Angelique and I turned and smiled at each other.

"Serra Winchester," I held out my hand, whispering my introduction.

Angelique turned to me and smiled, "Angelique Dawes," she answered, taking my hand and shaking it briefly.

"You look like a cop," I continued, jumping down from the table and immediately heading towards the cooler Ryan was using as a footrest. "You a cop?"

"Up in Indianapolis."

I nodded, making a face, "Well, Angelique," I whispered. "You're about to be jumped into the world of the supernatural. Get ready."

"I'm thinking my weeks spent in a hypnotic state and the fact that I can pour blades from a rock may have done that already," Angelique answered, shaking her head. "Who's the asshole in the hat?"

"His name is Seeder," I continued. "And the other guy is new. I don't know much about him, but his name is Carter."

"You came in with a rock too," Angelique commented, crouching down next to me as I pushed Ryan's foot off the cooler and started loading my pockets with injectors of Sammy's blood. She gestured to the cooler, "What's with those?"

I took a deep breath, knowing that my new companion was just being a cop and trying to figure out as much as she could about her situation, but I was used to working with someone that could read minds. "Okay, Ang," I breathed. "You're probably pretty quick on the uptake," I explained, wincing as I injected myself with one of the vials. "But we're in the middle of a pretty big problem. That rock," I pointed to the MegaStone behind me and shook my hands as the adrenaline of Sammy's blood hit my veins. "That rock is all of our rocks, and I'm not sure what it can do yet, but I can guarantee, if Seeder's got a buyer, we don't have much time before this all gets way outta hand."

Standing next to Ryan, I snapped in front of his face, testing his consciousness. "Ry," I whispered, glancing towards the back of the warehouse. "Ry, you gotta get with it, man. We're outta here."

"Do you know each other already?"

I nodded, taking a deep breath, still staring into Ryan's blank blue eyes. "He's my sister's ex-boyfriend. It's a long, involved story."

Angelique tilted her head, "Does it involve more supernatural?"

I cracked a grin as Ryan blinked a couple of times, starting to come out of his daze as I slapped his face gently. "Oh, honey," I turned to Angelique and shook my head. "You have no idea." I turned back to Ryan and lifted my eyebrows. "Come on, Ry. We need to get moving."

I could _feel_ the atmosphere shift and without thinking, I shoved Angelique back towards the barstool. "Back to comatose," I whispered, ducking. "Whoever is joining us is angelic."

"_What?"_ Angelique sat on her stool and watched, wide eyed, as the warehouse lit from the back as an angel arrived.

I leaned as far as I could without falling over in attempt to see who the new player was. "Yeah," I whispered back. "What weapons did you come in with?"

"Just my issue," she answered, gesturing to the duffle bag in the rear of the warehouse.

"What kind of bullets?"

Angelique seemed confused. "My standard issue is a nine-millimeter," she answered.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Never mind," I sighed. "After this is over, we need to have a sit down about your lack of curiosity."

Bending low, I managed to creep back towards my torture table, but listened hard. I wanted as much information as I could before we ditched Seeder and met up with Grace, Sam, and Dean. Ryan was regaining consciousness and I held up my hand, palm out. "Hold," I whispered. "Stay put."

He nodded his understanding and I turned back towards the room where the angel and Seeder were having an in-depth discussion about the MegaStone. I wished, more than anything, that Grace was here.

…

Grace

I closed my eyes as I listened to Serra. She had appeared suddenly in my subconscious and I wondered momentarily how she had done it, but then remembered with a slow smile, that she had stolen the vials of Sammy's blood from the hospital.

Serra was making sure the ball was back in her court.

I could hear car doors closing and Dean's voice outside as he greeted Emery. Turning, I tilted my head to listen to their conversation.

"Hey, Dean," she greeted, grunting slightly as she slammed the door to her old truck. "Everything okay? What's with the burns on the front of the gates?"

There was a smile in Dean's voice. "Grace decided she wasn't gonna deal with the demons that were sent to attack us," he explained. "She stopped them with some kind of shield, and they liquefied as they hit the dirt."

Emery didn't answer, and I watched through her eyes as she inspected the sky, obviously looking for my shield. "That's new," Em commented offhandedly. "Kids inside?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "She said something about a sandwich and then we were going after Serra."

Turning slowly to the front door, I took a slow breath in through my nose, watching my husband, brother in law, and pseudo-mother file inside. Lucia hung back, watching me carefully from the porch. Dean caught my eye and questioned me with a look. I shook him off and inspected Emery through my constant, newly found rage.

"Hey, honey," she greeted, setting her purse down on the big, comfy chair. She stared at me longer than I felt comfortable, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Everything alright?"

I didn't answer immediately, but instead took the last bite of my sandwich and put the plate on the countertop. "It will be," I finally whispered, still eyeing Emery. I couldn't shake the sudden feeling of suspicion that washed over me as I stared at her. It was as if I was seeing her clearly after years of watching her through a foggy window. "I'm seeing things a bit clearer now."

"Well, good," she answered. "You gonna go get that sister of yours, so we can wrap this up?"

I stared at Emery, watching her shift her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "Jody will be here soon," I commented, continuing as if I hadn't noticed her body language. "She and Bill are coming so they can help out around here. We'll only be gone a day or two."

Dean was watching me carefully as I pulled my old boots off and switch pairs. I ignored him; I was too busy trying to organize the thoughts that were flying into my brain about Emery. I realized, only now, years after having her back in our lives, that I very rarely was able to tap into her subconscious narration; the one that everyone has as constant chatter. Everyone's is a little different, but no matter; humans naturally talked to themselves, and usually, I had a pretty deep understanding of what they discussed. Slowly, I was realizing that Emery was usually silent.

My newly found anger had helped me understand something new about her. I didn't know Emery Calico at all.

I turned to my husband and took a deep breath, pushing my thoughts deep into my subconscious. I would deal with all of this later. "Let's go get my sister."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Serra

The warehouse thrummed with electricity as the angelic creature joined the audience in the other room. Seeder and Carter had obviously invited her, considering they were now calmly discussing the MegaStone as if it was second nature to have an angelic glow surround them.

I got Angelique's attention and motioned to Ryan. _Take him with you and get over here,_ I thought, gesturing with my finger.

She watched me momentarily and her eyes widened, _Holy shit, girl, I can hear you in my brain._

Freezing in place and feeling the shock of amazement trickle through my head, I smiled inwardly. Of course, Warriors could communicate with other Warriors.

_Well, then_, I thought, grinning, _let's get this party started. Grace, please tell me you can hear me. _

_I'm here,_ my sister answered immediately. _I'm here and we're coming to you right now._

_ Gang's all here,_ I grinned, knowing it was Sammy's blood pumping through my veins that pushed us into communication once more. _There's an angel here. Don't know who it is but come ready. _

_Got it, _Grace replied. _Hi, Angelique. Don't shoot us when we show up. I don't want to have to kill you._

Angelique Dawes' dark eyes were wide as they could be without popping out of her head as she stared at me from across the room. I grinned at her. _Oh, it's about to get so much better,_ I continued, lifting my eyebrows.

_I didn't sign up for this._

Suddenly, Grace, Dean, and Sammy appeared in the back of the warehouse, holding hands. The boys almost collapsed at her feet as soon as their boots contacted the cement; but Grace dropped both of their hands and sauntered towards me without bothering to hide herself. Angelique fell over her own feet, backing up and away from the sudden appearance of my sister.

"Hey, Little," she greeted. "Glad to see you're in one piece. Who's the player?"

"Hey Big," I whispered. I couldn't wipe the grin off my face, "It's Seeder. And a guy named Carter. An angel just showed."

Grace nodded, glancing back at Dean and Sammy. "You two okay?" she asked. They nodded slowly as Sammy jogged over to me, hugging me fiercely. I watched Grace straighten up and smile slowly, "I'm gonna go introduce myself."

I helped Angelique up off the floor and grinned at her. "Told you," I whispered. "Party's getting started."

"She just appeared out of nowhere," Angelique whispered. "Is she—," she shook her head and stared at Grace's back as she walked towards the other room. "What is she?"

Dean bent to my level and whispered, "There will be time for shop talk later." He nodded towards the other room, "Can we go make sure your sister doesn't kill everyone, please?"

My eyes flicked to my brother-in-law's face. "Should we be worried about her killing everyone?" I asked, tilting my head. "What did I miss?"

He pursed his lips, forcing his dimples to show. "She's in a bit of a mood," Dean replied. "I'll let her tell you."

"Great," I answered, loading my guns now that I had them back in my hands.

Ryan seemed to be coming to, joining our group as we knelt near Angelique. "Grace looks pissed," he ventured. "I'm glad to see everyone is up and paying attention. Sorry I was out for so long."

I patted Ryan on the back. "You and me both, Ry," I gestured towards Grace as she approached the other room. "We'd better get with it or we're gonna miss the excitement."

Dean was already in motion, following his wife through the warehouse with his guns loaded and ready. I trailed behind him, with Sammy at my flank. Ryan and Angelique brought up the rear as we approached the doorway.

Grace carried herself differently; I could see it in her face. Ryan was right. She was pissed.

I could probably count on one hand the amount of times I had seen my sister with that look on her face; her right eyebrow was lifted slightly, and the rest of her face was smoothed out with her jaw locked into place. I couldn't imagine what Grace had been through in the last couple of days that would force her into this kind of vengeful mood. Her abilities thrummed and I could feel that she barely contained her rage as she sauntered to the other half of the warehouse. I mentally braced myself for the fight we were about to have.

Without hesitating at the doorway, Grace invited herself into the same room as Seeder and Carter, greeting the other angelic with a scowl on her face. "I always knew we'd have to kill you, Seeder," she announced as she entered the room. There was a scuffle of movement and a sudden explosion of angelic power, but whatever the angel had attempted to do was immediately stifled by my sister. "No, no, no," Grace whispered. "I'm not going to let _you_ kill anyone today. It's my turn."

The light emanating from the unidentified angel was almost too much to bear. I squinted into the glow, holding my hand out, trying to block as much as I could, but Grace hardly slowed down. Seeder and Carter, still with looks of shock etched into their faces, were thrown into chairs and blasted to the edge of the room, obviously forced into place by Grace.

She turned to the angel and took a deep breath. "Who are you?" Grace growled, holding her hands out, keeping Seeder and Carter seated. "Back off the day-glow and let me see your face."

The angel stood, still illuminated by his or her own abilities. I glanced at Dean and Sam and licked my lips. This whole thing was putting me on edge. I didn't know what Grace's plan was and I had no idea what she was going to do next. I wasn't used to being so out of the loop.

Slowly, the light dimmed enough that I wasn't squinting. Sam and I exchanged glances, not sure of whom the new player was, but Grace narrowed her bright blue eyes at her, obviously cueing recognition.

"Abigail," she breathed. "What are you doing here?"

The angel Grace called Abigail didn't seem nervous or upset to see my sister. "I came to get the Warrior Stones back to where they belong: in the Armory."

"Tell me the truth," Grace whispered; her voice faltering slightly. She pressed her teeth together, holding her raw emotion at bay.

My sister had been through something big while I was gone, and I was thrown. Involuntarily taking a step towards her, I had a bigger-than-normal urge to touch her, though I resisted.

Abigail's face softened, almost as if she was in some sort of trance. "I'm claiming the Whole Stone for him. He will put the world back in balance," she answered tonelessly.

I watched Grace's eyes narrow at this new information. "You're not just another dead girl," she whispered. "You're a full-blown angel." Her blue eyes darted from Seeder to the woman she called Abigail, "And you've been lying to me."

The trance that Abigail seemed to be under was loosening and her gaze hardened once more. "I never told you I was human," she whispered. "You assumed."

"Did you kill my mother?" Grace asked suddenly.

I could feel my head whip around to face my sister; my breath catching in my throat. "What?" I whispered. "Mom's dead?" I found Sammy's face and swallowed hard. He pressed his lips together and nodded once. Flicking my eyes back to my sister, she refused to make eye contact with me, but I knew, right then and there, this was the event that had sent Grace into her vengeful anger.

I could feel the hurt give way to fury as I took a step towards the angel I didn't recognize. Grace's fingers splayed as she held her arm loosely by her hip, signaling me to hold. I froze in place but took a deep breath through my nose, biding my time. Whatever my sister planned on doing, I was right there behind her and ready to take whatever orders she gave me.

_Is everyone listening?_ I heard Grace's voice echo through my mind, though she still hadn't moved. _Make sure you're somewhere that's safe for what's about to go down. _Narrowing my eyes, I glanced around the room, watching for reactions on others' faces.

Angelique and Ryan had gotten the message. Both stood rigidly, waiting for the next command from Grace. _Ready,_ thought Angelique. I could hear her loud and clear as well.

Ryan nodded once, staring at Grace, _Waiting for orders, Boss._

I flicked my eyes towards my husband and brother in law and shared the shocked look on their faces when I realized that both Sam and Dean had heard the response from the other Warrior, though she hadn't answered out loud.

Sam turned to stare at me, _Are we all linked? _he asked, his eyebrows in his hairline.

I nodded slowly, a slow smile tugging its way across my face.

Grace took a deep breath and turned to stare at Abigail again. "Did you kill our mother or not?"

Abigail slowly tilted her head and sighed heavily, seemingly bored. "How do you kill someone who's already dead?"

There was a deep vibration from the ground, like a freight train was headed right through the warehouse. "That's the wrong answer," Grace whispered. With a flick of her hand, Abigail was pressed to the floor and Grace approached her, using both off her hands to force the angel into the cement. Cracks began to form in the concrete at our feet as the two cosmic creatures played chicken with their abilities, both pushing back with reckless abandon. I glanced at Grace, wondering what she wanted me to do.

_The Stone,_ she answered. _Get the Whole Stone and take care of Seeder._

I could feel the muscles in my face relax. "Finally," I sighed, turning towards the men in the corner of the room. "It's you and me, man," I called, approaching the voodoo witch doctor that I had hated since my childhood. I flicked the safety off both of my guns. "Let's dance."

Sam fell into step with me, taking his gun out and aiming it at Seeder. Dean approached Grace, watching his wife warily. "Do we know this one?" he asked. "I take it we're taking no prisoners?"

"She was her friend," Grace muttered, shaking her head. "Mom trusted her, and she killed her instead."

Abigail rolled her eyes. "You're monologuing. And you're wasting the powers Father let you keep," she grunted. "If you only used what He gave you instead of holding back all the time…" she shook her head as another crack appeared in the floor of the warehouse. "Just know, there's always a balance. A give and a take."

"Right now, I only plan on taking," Grace growled. The warehouse lit with a blinding light as chaos erupted all around us.

…

Serra

Seeder was never one to want to fight face to face. I ran after him as he made an attempt to escape through the back end of the warehouse. It didn't occur to me to try and kill him as he ran; I wanted the chance to see his face as I ended his life.

"Seeder, you bitch," I yelled into the night. "Don't leave without saying goodbye!"

I stopped to listen, considering I lost him in the darkness. I could hear his footsteps and as I closed my eyes, I took a deep breath and aimed with my right hand. As I fired, there was a pop and a scream of anguish in the night as Seeder hit the ground. I sprinted towards the sound and kept my guns aimed in front of me, listening to Seeder as he bled into the dirt.

"Oh good," I panted, smiling wickedly. "You're bleeding. Means you're still alive."

Seeder stared up at me and narrowed his eyes, "Oh, Serendipity," he drawled, trying his best to hide his pain. "You're never gonna make good on your threat. I have so much new information. Where would your conscious be if you killed me now?"

I took a deep breath in through my nose. "Clear," I answered. "If you've thought it, Grace already knows it." Seeder rolled his eyes, searching for a way to stall. I shook my head as I took a deep breath. "Sorry, Seeder. You lose."

The echo of four gunshots echoed out into the night.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Dean

The steady drip of the faucet in the background was the only noise I registered as I came to. If I hadn't been able to hear that, I would have assumed that I had gone deaf.

Sitting up on the cold, wet cement, I looked around at what was left of the warehouse where we had found Serra and everyone else. Still trying to put together what had happened, I rubbed my face with both of my palms and shook water droplets and wooden splinters out of my hair.

"Grace," I whispered, getting to my feet, and turning in a complete circle. "Grace?"

"She's right there," Serra supplied from her place on the broken wooden crate. "She's been standing there for a few minutes now."

"What happened?"

"Not really sure," Serra answered. "But the Warriors are alive, so I guess she picked and chose who to kill this time."

I turned and took inventory. Sam was sitting on the crate next to Serra, Ryan was on the floor, at Serra's feet like a child, and the last Warrior stood nearby, hovering cautiously as she watched Grace.

"Grace do this?" I asked, gesturing to the destruction.

Serra's hazel eyes flicked to my face. "Well, I didn't," she sighed. "And I'm pretty sure the angel got away."

"How?"

Shaking her head, Serra pressed her lips together. "I think Grace tried to use the MegaStone. I'm not sure if it went the way she wanted it to go."

Sam took a shuttering breath. "I was awake for most of it. Grace was struggling with the other angel," he glanced at me for confirmation, "Abigail?" I nodded. "Pressing her into the ground, but somehow, she got free of Grace's hold and touched the Stone." My brother glanced at my wife. "She and the angel made a break for the Stone, but Grace got there first. She got to it and touched it before Abigail did, then," Sammy held air in his cheeks and puffed it out quickly. "This."

I turned and took a step towards Grace, "Has anyone checked to see if she's okay?"

"Nah, I figured we could just decorate her when Christmas came around," Serra answered blandly. "She's not responding, dumbass."

Ignoring Serra, I ventured towards my wife, reaching out towards her carefully. "Grace?" I whispered. "Are you okay?"

Still silent and standing, facing the opposite direction, Grace either ignored me or couldn't hear me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the crumbled forms of Seeder and Carter and I knew both were dead. "Who got to do the honors?" I asked, gesturing to the men in the corner.

"Seeder tried to make a break for it and I chased him down while shit was hitting the fan in here," Serra answered her eyes flicking to Grace. "She did the rest. As we've described in detail."

Sammy stood slowly, following me at a distance. "Abigail disappeared on the spot when she realized that she wasn't going to get to the Stone first." He hesitated behind me, reaching for something that was propped on the corner of the crate. "And Grace was holding this when I woke up."

I turned my head enough to see an enormous sword glinting there in the early morning sunlight. "Is that a sword?" I asked, finally within touching distance of Grace. "Where did she get a sword?"

"It's not just a sword," Sam whispered, holding it out towards me. "I got a feeling this is _your_ sword."

I hesitated, reaching for Grace's hand, but the temptation was just too great. "My sword?" I repeated, still completely confused. "I don't have a—" The words died in my mouth as soon as I turned to stare at the weapon my brother held. Something deep in my chest pulled towards the blade with everything I was. "The Michael Sword," I breathed. "She had the Michael Sword?"

"Armorer and General," Serra repeated Abigail's words. "Grace is always talking about how she wanted a title. Mom was on assignment in the Armory…she had been for the last couple of years, on and off. What if this is why?" She took a deep, shaky breath. "But it's not like we can start asking questions, since Mom is dead-dead, apparently. Would have been nice for someone to tell me."

There was an awkward silence as Serra's words hung in the air. "We just found out, Luck," I whispered, making an apologetic face. "I'm so sorry."

Looking away from both of us, Serra took another breath and stared at the ceiling.

I turned back to my brother, "Was she guarding the Michael Sword?" I asked gently, trying to be considerate of the girls' feelings, but the need to ask questions still pressed in my brain.

"No," Serra breathed from her place on the crate, wiping her face, frustrated. "She was preparing for my sister to take her rightful bloodline. Armorer and General," Serra took a deep breath and shook her head slowly. "She can use the MegaStone. Not _well_," she added, tilting her head, "but the ability is there. I don't have any desire to touch it when they're all one piece like that. What if that's Grace's higher purpose?"

"I don't know—"

"Dean, she linked all of us like a walkie," Serra argued. "She's been my general my entire life and she knows more about this world and the next than any of us. I'll be she could get into the Armory like she belonged there." Serra glanced at her sister and shrugged, halfheartedly. "All the pieces are starting to fall into place. The seven Stones and Warriors come together and work for her. _We_ are her Warriors." A half smile tugged at Serra's lip as she gestured to Angelique and Ryan, "_We_ are the Army of Heaven. Maybe it's why the angels are fighting back so hard. A fucking Nephilim's supposed to be in charge."

I turned to my wife and touched her hand, mentally begging for her to come back to me and explain everything that had been happening. I silently pleaded with her to wake up so we could go back to our farm and raise our kids and pretend like none of this was happening.

Armorer and General. Michael and Lucifer's vessels. Seven Warriors of Heaven. Gatekeepers.

The titles kept rolling into my mind and I closed my eyes, wishing them away. As I opened my eyes, Grace was turned towards me, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stared at the destruction she had caused. We stared at each other, sharing the quiet moment. Then, her bright blue eyes flicked to her sister.

She took a ragged breath as they made eye contact. "Mom," she whispered, speaking only to Serra.

I watched silently as the lights above us pulsed. Serra's eyes squeezed shut without replying to her sister. Slowly, Serra's eyes opened again, but they were dry. I couldn't hear the exchange as the sisters stared at each other, but something told me I already understood.

Ryan stood near the other hunter and they watched Grace warily. I took the initiative and walked towards them, lifting my eyebrows. "You alright?" I asked Ryan as I approached. He nodded as I turned towards the other woman in the room.

She was tall and rail thin, but muscular, carrying herself too much like a cop. "Dean Winchester," I sighed, holding out my hand and introducing myself. "You the other Warrior?"

She nodded slowly; her dark eyes wide. "Yeah," she whispered. "Angelique Dawes. This is all insane."

"Tell me about it," I nodded, slowly shaking her hand. "Welcome to the shitshow."


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Serra

I didn't really feel anything as I watched Grace walk quietly towards the MegaStone as Sam and Dean gathered up the weapons that had been scattered during the explosion. My mind and body were numb after hearing that my mother was dead again. How was I supposed to feel? I hadn't had the opportunity to talk to her or to get to know her, like Grace had over the last few years. To me, Mom had died when I was five. She was just another player in the Heaven game.

When I started trying to rationalize my feelings, my chest began to ache, and I could feel the threat of pooling tears. I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to allow them to fall.

Grace approached the MegaStone and Angelique and Ryan watched her carefully. I wasn't sure what they felt, but my loyalty was to Grace, as it always had been, and not to the Stones. They said nothing as her hand rested on top of the MegaStone and we all watched as Grace closed her eyes and breathed slowly through her nose. I could feel the surprise show on my face as we saw the silky metallic stone melt apart and recreate our own individual Weapon Stones.

The familiar call was back in my mind as soon as my Stone had been recreated and I easily could pick my own Stone out of the group. Grace turned to the three of us and took a breath. "I'm starting to get it," she ventured, gesturing to the six Weapon Stones in front of her. "They're loyal to you as individuals." She licked her lips and sighed heavily, "And loyal to me as one."

Dean stared at his wife with his mouth open, "Did you know you could do that?"

"After…what happened in the Armory, I had an idea."

Angelique moved closer to Grace, stepping in front of my sister so that I could no longer see either one of their faces. "I know you," she murmured quietly to Grace. "I've known you for a long time. You're the reason I became a cop. I would dream about you and what you did…I wanted to do everything I could to emulate you."

Ryan nodded slowly. "I feel the same way, Grace," he added. "I mean, I figured when we dated that I'd end up marrying you. I just felt like I _had_ to be in your life." He faded away and shrugged, "I just wasn't ready when the demons showed up. I didn't know."

Dean watched the other Warriors with his eyes narrowed, suspicious. Grace pressed her lips together as she stepped over the rubble, headed towards Seeder and Carter's lifeless bodies. "I know that now," she began. "In the Armory, a lot of things came together. The idea that I was 'only' a Nephilim has never sat right with me. When the angels came and used the lame excuse that I was an 'abomination'…" she shook her head, dismissing the thought. "I figured out pieces after I died in the collapse, while I was in Heaven. I wasn't an abomination to the other angels, I was _competition_. Abigail just proved that."

"Competition?" Sam asked, glancing back at me.

Grace turned back to all of us, standing prouder than I had ever seen her. "Until now, the Whole Weapons Stone; the big one with all the Stones joined together, was unclaimed. It's meant to be mine," she whispered. "But others could have taken it for their own." She tried to smile, "It has officially pledged its allegiance to me, along with the rest of the Armory. It's all mine."

Licking her lips, Grace pushed her hair behind her shoulders and wrapped it into a bun at the base of her neck. "I dreamed a version of the Final Battle, right after Faith was born, capital F, capital B," she continued. "All of the Gates were open and everything, _everything_ was out. Every monster from Purgatory, every demon from Hell…we were there, fighting. It never occurred to me that I was the one giving the orders on that field," Grace's eyes were clear, but her voice wavered. "Chuck…God, whatever his name is…" she licked her lips. "I must be his enforcer; it's why I have so much raw power. I must be the Armorer and General. You are my Warriors of Heaven." She stared at Dean and Sammy sadly, "You are the Vessels. We have the Gatekeepers. We, all of us together, are the Army of Heaven, and we are at war."

…

Dean

I couldn't help staring at my brother as he rubbed his face, trying to take the gravity of Grace's speech in. I thought we had managed to wriggle out of the Vessel destiny bullshit but here we were, realizing that it was all part of yet another, bigger path. Sam would again, eventually cave to Lucifer. I would eventually have to bow into letting Michael wear me to prom. Licking my lips, I steadied my resolve. None of us would kill the other. We would find a way out, just like we always had.

"I don't feel like killing Sam would be the answer anyway," Grace answered my thoughts. "Yes, I see Lucifer being a problem eventually, but," she shrugged and stared at Sammy. "I don't see your end, Sam."

"His _end?"_ Serra repeated. "This comes down to taking out Lucifer _again_? This is a fucking rerun. We've done this already."

Grace turned and shrugged once more. "It's not the ending that Chuck wanted. Lucifer doesn't belong in the cage. It's not where his final place should be."

"What is it, then?" Serra demanded. "Because it's certainly not wearing my husband."

Angelique held up both of her hands. "Wait, girl," her eyebrows were in her hairline. "Lucifer, like the Devil, Lucifer? Is that what you're saying, now?"

Serra nodded distractedly.

"And he's in a cage. And you've done this before," Angelique continued. "This is all some bullshit," she breathed, shaking her head. "If he's in some cage, then why is he a problem, then? And who the hell are these two?" Angelique turned and pointed to Seeder and Carter, still dumped in the pile in the corner of the warehouse. "Doesn't it bother anyone else that there are two dead guys in the corner?"

"Seeder's been a long time coming," Serra answered, fingering her guns. "I'm just real glad I finally got to be the one to pull the trigger."

Grace lifted her eyebrows, "I was a little worried for a bit, when he took off."

"What, you think I wouldn't catch him? He was like fifty," Serra shot back.

I held up my hands, "Can it, both of you." Closing my eyes, I forced myself to take a deep breath. This was like some kind of sick déjà vu. "Just let me process all of this for a minute. How can you be sure, Grace? How do you know this is where we're going with it?" Grace and Serra both turned to me, identical looks of irritation on their faces. "Alright, alright," I sighed. "So, what now, then?" I glanced up at Angelique and Ryan. "We've got Warriors and Stones, but no fight to fight."

Taking a deep breath and crossing her arms in front of her chest, Grace pressed her lips together. "Well," she sighed, "to start, we're missing the Deerhead Stone. Also, we're down two Warriors. There should be seven."

"Missing two?" Sam finally chimed in. "We only have three here. Aren't we missing four?"

Serra looked up at Sammy, smiling sadly. "You didn't count Levi or Charlie," she murmured, holding up two fingers. Then, holding up one finger for each one of the remaining Warriors, she continued, "Me, Angelique, and Ryan. We're missing two."

Sam looked like he could have broken down in tears right then and there. I took a deep breath and patted my brother on the back. "We're in it for the long haul," I muttered. "Buckle up."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Serra

Standing in the back of the parking lot, I couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that riddled through my body on how this one ended. Seeder was dead, yeah, but Abigail was in the wind, and we were heavy two mouths to feed. I sighed as I flipped my head forward to gather my hair into a messy bun at the top of my head.

"We burning it?" Dean asked as he approached me and Grace.

"Yeah," I answered with a hair tie in my mouth. "Sammy's locking it down before Grace ignites."

Ryan tossed the duffle bag into the back of his Honda Accord, crossing his arms and leaning against the trunk. "There's no going home after this," he muttered, glancing at Grace. "I mean, they've probably already fired me. How long have we been gone?"

"Almost two weeks," Angelique answered, joining us on the pavement. "I should have just resigned before I left."

"Maybe you can say you were in deep cover," I grinned, but when seeing the look on Angelique's face, the smile slid off as quickly as it had appeared. "No? Forget it."

Dean turned and furrowed his eyebrows at me, "It almost sounds like you're disappointed," he ventured. "Upset you didn't get to fight longer?"

"Dude, I was all primed for more," I whined. "A couple of vials of Sammy's blood and I was ready to go. When I don't get to use the energy they give me, I kinda stall out." I brought my shoulders up to my neck and made a face. "Like blue balls, but for fighting."

"At least you got to chase Seeder for a bit," Dean added. Laughing, he turned back to his wife and lifted his eyebrows. "Ready?" he asked. "There's no one around for a few city blocks. They might not even call this one arson."

"You all are serial killers…complete criminals," Angelique commented. "You don't have any qualms with any of this at all."

I pressed my lips together, "Oh, Ang," I sighed. "You don't know the half of it." I turned to my sister. "Let's get this shit lit. I wanna go home to my babies."

…

Sam

It was close to two in the morning when we finally came through Dean and Grace's front door. Ryan and Angelique had opted out of allowing Grace to bring them home, so they would arrive sometime after the sun rose. Happy to be home, I sighed as I let the duffle gently hit the floor and held the door open for Serra, Grace, and Dean as they followed me up the steps.

Serra carried her Stone, as well as a few others, all being held separately in drawstring bags to keep them from rejoining. Grace followed closely behind, still carrying herself differently than I had seen her; a little more rigid, a little more elegant. A little more, I realized, like an angel.

"You're home!" Jody greeted; her arms open wide for a hug once she saw Serra. "I am so glad you're safe."

"Yeah," Serra grinned, squeezing our friend. "Yeah, me too."

Walking right past Jody without acknowledging her, Grace stepped into the dining room and tilted her head as she listened to something she couldn't hear.

Dean watched her carefully, obviously still on guard. "What is it?"

"Where's Emery?" Grace asked, ignoring Dean, and turning to stare at Jody. Bill Griffin stepped up the last of the basement stairs to join us in the living room behind Grace and watched her along with Dean.

Jody shook her head slowly, "She went home when Bill got here," she answered, looking confused. "It's what we normally do if we're not on high alert."

"Grace, what?" Serra demanded.

Turning to stare at Serra, Grace took a deep breath through her nose. "She's gone," she finally answered, her voice almost a whisper. "I can't hear her."

"Gone?" Serra stepped towards Grace. "What the fuck does that even mean?"

"She's on the run," Grace whispered, shaking her head disappointedly. "Fuck, I blew her cover. She knew I was suspicious."

"Of _what?_"

Grace flicked her eyes towards me and Dean. "Of her," she offered. "After I killed those angels, my…rage simplified things."

"Anger does that," Serra spat. "Get to your fucking point."

Turning towards Serra, Grace began speaking quickly, the way the sisters did when they were sharing information just between each other. "I finally realized that we don't know _anything_ about Emery from the point of her 'death' on," Grace used her fingers as air quotes as she shook her head. "All that time she was gone, and we were alone. I had the first couple of doubts when I realized that I can't tap into her thoughts as easily as I can everyone else's and it occurred to me that she might know more about sigils and blocking Angel Radio than she lets on." Grace shrugged, "God knows she spent enough time with Ouriel and whoever else she was with."

"You're saying Emery is a _fucking spy?_" Serra gaped and took a step back. "What the _fuck_ is happening around here?" Serra turned to stare at me, then back towards her sister with her arms splayed. "You're telling me that I'm going to lose two mothers in two days?"

Grace swallowed hard. "I know and I'm sorry, Sere," she whispered. "I wish I had been able to tell you about Mom before that all happened, but—" Grace stopped mid-sentence and her eyes went wide as she cocked her head to the side. "Oh my god, get down," she muttered.

Dean whipped around to face his wife, "What?"

"Get _down!" _Grace screamed, pulling Jody and Bill to the floor by their arms. I wasn't far behind, pulling Serra to the ground as well as Dean followed suit, diving to the rug next to Grace.

Immediately, the glass exploded out of the windows and showered down onto the floor as the earth beneath us began to shake, hard enough to throw plates out of the cupboards and coffee mugs to the hardwood. The house shifted on its foundation and floorboards creaked under the stress. Cracks began to form along the walls of the old farmhouse and Grace held up her hands, forcing the drywall to stay where it was. Dean glanced up at Grace and bellowed, "Where are the kids?"

"They're in the panic room!" she answered, trying her best to move across the ground to the basement door. "Help me!"

"What's attacking us?" Serra shouted over the destruction.

"Everything," Grace answered, looking around at the walls as they shook. "Everything from Hell, all at once."


	28. Chapter 28

::Hello everyone! This is the last chapter of "Seven" and I have started editing the LAST story in my Winchester Ranch Arc. It's been a long road, and I have had so much fun writing this-At first I was convinced that I was done writing Winchester Ranch, but I also know I'll miss the characters too much, so I'm sure I'll do a few stand alones in the coming months, but until then, "Apocalypse" will be the last story I have in my queue for a long while. I hope you enjoyed "Seven" and check back soon for a time jump and my last story: "Apocalypse". As always, let me know what you think! Thank you so much for the views, favorites, reviews, and support.

Love and internetty hugs (all whilst wearing a mask)

The Girl With the Dinosaur Tattoo::

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Chapter 28

Dean

If there was ever a time to panic, it was now.

The stress on our old farmhouse was almost too much for it to take and the cracks that zipped along the ceiling and the walls were horrifying to watch. I mostly rolled down the steps of the basement to the kids and pressed the code to open the air locked, iron door. "Lib!" I shouted, "Glory, Everett, Lee, now! Let's go!"

All the Winchester kids were already lined up and ready to evacuate, both the older kids carrying the youngest. I took Charlie from Levi's grasp as Grace struggled to get to Liberty and take Faith.

"How is this happening?" Serra shouted from her place on the floor as the roaring quake continued. "We have the sigils! The protective shielding!"

"That's what the shaking is," Grace answered, finally able to take Faith and hoist her onto her hip. "They're not through yet, but they know we're here."

Serra was on her feet with her arms out, trying to keep her balance. "But they can't see us or the house because of the shield, right?"

"Right," Grace agreed, heading back up the basement steps. "We need to get out of the house before it comes down on us." She glanced back at me and shook her head. "I guess now's as good of a time as any to try out Faith's Gate."

"We're running?" I asked.

"We're evacuating the kids," Grace reiterated. "Then we're coming back to kill us some demons."

"That's my girl," I whispered, picking Glory up from the floor.

Grace sat on the hardwood with Faith and cupped her face with both of her hands. "Baby," she began, smiling and trying to ignore the tremors that rattled the house. "We need to get you guys somewhere safe. You think you can open the Gate to Heaven?"

Faith nodded slowly, "Gate," she whispered. "Gate open."

"We're going to the Gardens," Grace continued, glancing at Jody and Bill. "You are going to stay with Lucia and Cas."

"No," Cas appeared suddenly behind us, "my place will be here with you. Lucia will take the children into the Gardens to hide."

"Cas," Grace began, but Cas held up his hand and shook her off.

"Now is not the time, Grace."

Faith closed her eyes and I watched with my mouth open as my two-year-old daughter opened her Gate to Heaven. Her chubby hands were raised and made circular motions as light blue sparks began to appear out of nowhere. Once the Gate was hovering silently in our still-rattling house, I could see into the forests of the Gardens of Heaven. Lucia was waiting patiently for the kids with open arms.

"They will be safe with me," Lucia said, calling through the open Gate. It was obvious from the smile on her face that Lucia had forgiven Grace for whatever she had done in the Armory. "Come for them when you can, General."

"You're hilarious, Lucia," Grace called back, then pressed her lips together.

Serra lunged to Levi and Charlotte, wrapping her arms around both of her children tightly. "We're all going to be fine, guys," she whispered into Levi's hair. "We'll be back for you soon. I love you."

Levi and Charlotte stared up into their mother's eyes and nodded somberly. "Okay, Momma," Levi whispered. "You promise?"

"With all my heart," Serra answered. "Stay together. Protect each other, my tiny Warriors."

Sammy knelt towards his kids as well, hugging them together and kissing them both on the forehead. He couldn't bring himself to say anything except whispering, "I love you both."

With that, Levi carried Charlie through the Gate towards Lucia. Liberty, Glory, Everett, and Faith were doing the same with Grace and I bent around my family, hugging them. "Be safe, you guys," I whispered. "Listen to Lucia. We'll bring you back soon."

The girls followed Levi and Charlie through the Gate as one of the remaining windows in the back room shattered. We all ducked instinctively, and Serra whipped around, following the sound. Another window crashed to the floor, and then three more. I stood in front of my kids as they filed through the Gate, trying to block them from any shards that might hurt them. Grace seemed to be doing that with more than her body, throwing shields around the entirety of the family.

She was about to get to her feet, but Everett hesitated at the Gate and turned back to his mother, away from his sisters. He watched Serra turn and run back towards the gun safe in the back of the house, getting out as many weapons as she could, but really, everything we had was already out.

Everett looked up at me, but pressed his lips together, almost telling me that he only wanted to speak to his mother. I took the hint and smiled at my son, ducking my head when a light fixture fell from the ceiling. I joined the others in the dining room, readying for the coming battle.

…

Grace

Everett turned and held both of my hands. I searched his face, begging him to make the decision to tell me quickly so that he could go to the Gardens and be safe. "Ev?" I asked, waiting as patiently as I could. "Baby, what's wrong? You have to go to stay safe."

"I did it," he whispered, his startle reflex forcing his eyes closed as another violent burst rocked the house.

I leaned forward, touching my son's face. "What? You did what?" I was genuinely confused because whatever Everett's secret was, I couldn't tell. He was blocking it from me.

His bright blue eyes darted around nervously. "This," he answered quietly. "The monsters." A single tear dripped down his cheek. "I let them out."

My breath caught in my throat and my mouth dropped open. "You opened your Gate?" I whispered. "Baby, why?"

"Gama Emery told me to," Everett argued, suddenly defensive. "She told me it was practice and I was doing a good job!"

Our front door burst open and wild gusts of wind whipped through the house, slamming cupboards open and shattering the last windows in the kitchen. I focused as hard as I could on Everett and held his face with both of my hands. "Baby, will you close it, please? Can you close your Gate?"

Everett shook his head furiously, tears coming to his eyes. "I tried, Momma! I tried and I can't!" His blue eyes shot to Dean, who was turned slightly and watching the exchange. Everett's tears fell onto his shirt. "Daddy, I tried so hard!"

"Okay," I gasped as the bookcase rattled free of the wall and came crashing down behind us. "Okay, we'll fix it. We'll fix your Gate and we'll take care of the monsters, but you need to be somewhere safe."

Dean relented and came back to the pair of us, kneeling as he wrapped his arms around Everett. "It's okay, bud," he whispered into his hair. "It's not your fault. We'll take care of it together."

Everett nodded and sobbed. "I didn't mean it, Daddy," he gasped. "I'm a good boy."

"I know you are," Dean agreed. "You're my big man. We got this."

I forced myself to smile, holding back the emotion, saving my kids from seeing me weak. "We'll come and get you soon," I said. "Take care of everyone."

Gently, I turned Everett back towards Lucia and pushed him through the entrance to Heaven, through Faith's Gate. I nodded silently, encouraging our daughter to allow her Gate to close. Slowly, the blue sparks faded, and the oval collapsed around itself, disappearing into nothing.

"Emery made him open his Gate?" Dean grumbled. "Oh, if I ever see her again," he shook his head, his words hanging in the air. The house lurched under us once again.

I took a deep breath and pulled on my leather jacket, which had been hanging on the back of my big, comfy armchair. "Well," I muttered, shaking my head.

"Well, what?" Dean asked, flinching again as the windows rattled.

"It's been nice," I whispered, sighing heavily. "Having a house."

Pressing his lips together, Dean clicked the safety off both the guns in his hands. "It has been," he chuckled. "You ready for this?"

"No," I shook my head and furrowed my eyebrows.

Serra turned and approached, loaded with every weapon she owned. Knives and guns were tucked in and around her belt and thigh holster. She had swords on straps, draped over her shoulders and bullets in belts wrapped around her chest and waist.

"Oh, come on," Serra allowed a small smile to touch the corner of her lips. "We've survived an apocalypse before. What's one more?"

"I'm happy to see that you're so confident."

Laughing and shaking her head, Serra grinned at me, "Sister," she sighed, turning towards the front door as another gust of wind screamed through the house, "we survived last time as a gun hand and a by-touch psychic." She tilted her head and popped her neck. "Now," Serra turned to lift an eyebrow, "we're a Warrior of Fucking Heaven and a full-blown Nephilim Armorer-General-Whatever." Gesturing to Dean and Sam with her guns, she continued, "We've got Lucifer's Vessel and Michael's Vessel." Finally, shrugging with one shoulder, she glanced at Ryan and Angelique who had just arrived, and made a face, "Not to mention a couple more Warriors waiting on orders, boss."

I could feel the doubt seep away as I turned toward the open front door. This situation is exactly what we had been preparing for our entire lives. Suddenly, everything that we had ever been through made complete sense. We were more prepared now than we ever had been, and I knew we would eventually end up on top.

"Well, well, well," I sighed, stepping out onto the windblown porch as lightning and thunder pounded down. Demons by the thousands circled the property, high enough to avoid the sigils and protective enchantments around our land. "Look who it is."

Everyone turned towards the storm and watched as a police cruiser screamed down the highway towards our house. The sirens were blaring, and she was driving like she had the devil chasing her.

"Donna?" Dean asked, stepping forward and squinting. "Is that Donna?"

I was already nodding as lightning struck the telephone pole at the outer edge of our property line. I was seeing things more clearly than I ever had in my life. "Warrior number six," I muttered, shaking my head. "Fitting."

Serra lifted her eyebrows and turned to stare at me, "Donna is a Warrior of Heaven?"

"Makes sense, doesn't it?"

Licking her lips, Serra nodded. "Guess so," she sighed. "Wish it wasn't the case."

Sam turned and tilted his head, "Why?"

Not looking at her husband, Serra watched Donna approach, "I'm tired of losing family."

…

Serra

Every one of my nerves was on fire. I was breathing slowly, waiting for Grace to make the decision to attack, but it felt like she was waiting for something. Ryan and Angelique had fallen into step ahead of us on the gravel driveway. I was somewhere in the middle with the boys on my right- and left-hand sides. Donna hadn't even bothered to greet us as she pulled her weapons, loaded them with Weapons Stone bullets and taken her place on the driveway with Ryan and Angelique. Jody and Bill were behind us, standing on the steps next to Cas.

Grace breathed slowly, watching from the top of the porch. I could feel every movement she made; every muscle twitch, every breath she took was a part of me as well. It was as if we shared one body, and I knew it was more than because we were sisters. She was now so much more than that.

"Get ready," Grace breathed, but I knew every one of us could hear her as if she had screamed it. "He's coming."

"He?" Sam asked, tilting his head in a way that told me he already knew.

There, at the end of the property line, beyond our sigils, stood a man who made the storm stand still. Demons still circled and lightning struck in the background, beyond our boundaries, but it was entirely, and eerily, silent.

Recognition hit Dean like a ton of bricks. I could hear him breathe, "Oh my god," and I knew, right then and there, that we just might be outgunned.

"Hey, there," the man greeted, shouting across the empty property. "It's been a while!"

I took a steadying breath through my nose and released it out my mouth.

"You know," the man continued, using a friendlier voice than I would have expected, "I was down there a long time. I was starting to think you'd forgotten all about me."

Ryan turned slightly, lifting his eyebrows. "Who the fuck is this guy?" he whispered.

"Oh, that's cute," the man continued. "He doesn't know me. He must be new."

Without warning, lightning came down and struck too close to us to be comfortable. I watched out of the corner of my eye as it seemed to snake around a bubble to hit the ground near Ryan, as if the raw electricity was meant for him. "Aw," the man teased, "I see wittle Gwacie has some new abilities. Good for you, honey." He winked. "Gold star."

Slowly, it seemed as if the volume was being turned up. My ears popped as the atmosphere around me corrected, adding pressure to the air as it whipped around us. Grace's powers thrummed around us, adding a baseline hum to the mix, fueling my adrenaline.

"You're gonna be no match for what I got cooked up in this storm," Lucifer whispered.

Taking a deep breath as I took my first step towards him, I could feel my confidence grow. We had made it through this situation once and we would make it through again, especially with what we had learned and all the allies we had gained.

I took another step down the driveway, with Dean and Sam following in my wake, flicking the safety off their guns and unholstering weapons. The other Warriors fell into step around me and Cas, Jody, and Bill brought up the rear, doing the same.

Behind me, I could feel Grace smile and follow, using her abilities already, with her hands pressed towards the sky, holding our shields in place.

I could feel the tug of a wry grin at the corners of my mouth as I spoke my thoughts aloud, "I am the storm."


End file.
